Nightmares and Daydreams
by teacherbev
Summary: AU5th Year. Secrets are revealed, alliances are formed and the wizarding world will never be the same again. No slash Snape.Harry Mentoring. Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1: The Quidditch Game

Nightmares and Daydreams

By Teacherbev

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I am not a multinational bookselling company, nor am I a multi-million dollar movie company, so I don't own anything that you recognize. I am a retired former teacher who likes to twist plots and play with characters, so enjoy.

Summary: AU 5th Year. Secrets are revealed, alliances are formed and the wizarding world will never be the same again. No slash, no OC. Sevitis.

Chapter 1: The Quidditch Game

A warm breeze bathed the Quidditch pitch as the excited Hogwarts students filed into the spectator stands in ones, twos and small groups, their chatter filling the October afternoon with the pleasant sound of happy laughing children. Not only was it the first game of the new season, and a gloriously warm late autumn day, it was Gryffindor versus Slytherin! Gryffindor was of course standing 100 percent behind Harry Potter, the legendary youngest seeker in a century. The only game he had ever lost had been interfered with by a swarm of Dementors during Harry's disastrous third year. The Ministry, in their brilliant stupidity, thought it would be a good idea to protect a castle containing almost three hundred young and impressionable children with the most terrifying dark creatures known to the entire wizarding world, the Dementors of Azkaban.

Last year had been the sometimes exciting but ultimately horrifying experience of the Tri-Wizard Championship which finished in the brutal death of their classmate, Cedric Diggory. Cedric's death had been immediately followed by darkest blood ritual that re-incarnated the most powerfully corrupt, and no longer completely human, self titled Lord Voldemort, a menace so frightening to the average witch or wizard that they cringed at the sound of his name. Most even refused to speak it, as if the mere utterance of the hated name would cause him to appear; even ten years after the baby Harry Potter had banished his physical body into some bizarre plain of half existence.

The Ministry had again proven that the most imbecilic of people become bureaucrats, and that the worst of them will rise to the top. Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic had appointed his own toady woman, who embodied evil incarnate to the students, to the vacant Defense Against the Dark Arts position. She had happily begun abusing the power her boss had given her, by torturing children with a blood quill during detentions; which she gave out even more frequently than Albus Dumbledore handed out sherbet lemons. She refused to actually teach the students any practical defense, insisting that all class periods be spent in useless perusal of the specially selected and totally inane DADA book. Following the theories in the defense book was guaranteed to swiftly cause the death of anyone stupid enough to attempt any of the gruel that the author espoused as defense against a death eater or a dark creature.

So on this fine Saturday afternoon of Harry's fifth year, almost every Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff as well as a few secretive Slytherin students had gathered in full force to watch their hero, Harry Potter kick Malfoy's skinny pureblood arse as he had at every previous occasion both on the Quidditch pitch and off.

The anticipation of the match was fueling the conversations around the almost full stands, even the usually studious students of Ravenclaw had turned out to watch the little ferret get pounded into the ground. The roar of the lion hat that perched precariously on the platinum blonde hair of Luna Lovegood periodically startled her fellow students as the sound rose above the general hubbub of a thousand voices all talking at once.

With a final roar of the crowd that left an almost palpable aura of anticipation, Lee Jordan began the commentary with the introduction of the mostly hated Slytherin team. "And for Slytherin house we have the two new beaters, the infinitely forgettable team of Crabbe and Goyle, who together almost have a single brain, ouch, ouch." You could hear Professor McGonagall yelling at her very biased house member while she squeezed his ear in disapproval.

"Jordan, you will keep your comments to yourself;" several people close to her thought they heard her mutter 'no matter how accurate and deserved' before again speaking louder; "And stick to commentating!"

"Yes, Professor of course, now where was I? Oh, yes first we have Crabbe and Goyle followed by Montague, Pucey and Nott; followed by the chief ferret, ow… stop… okay… okay, Professor, their captain and seeker, seems like Daddy's money is at play again for it certainly isn't his flying skills… Draco Malfoy!" Lee was drowned out by a swelling surge of boos that completely overcame the cheers and clapping coming from the green clad section of the stands. Professor Snape, in his usual green robes clapped diligently but he was the only one making much of an effort in the completely filled staff and visitors section. He leaned over to speak softly to the arrogant but aristocratic man sitting in stiff rigidity beside him, the man's shoulder length blonde hair immaculately coiffed and a look haughty disapproval at the booing that the announcement of his son's name had caused.

The Slytherin team took an introductory spin around the pitch, their faces twisted in anger and hatred at the mass of students booing and hissing at them. With Draco in the lead of the flying arrow formation, they managed to make a full lap at what they considered an impressive speed, smugly satisfied that their matching Nimbus 2001's would pound their rival Gryffindors into the ground once and for all.

Their landing however, was almost unnoticed for at that exact moment, the blazing crimson and gold of the Griffindors flashed out of the entrance way, their movements so precise and elegant that it was almost a blur of red and gold, each player indistinguishable as they flew, their speed and grace making the Slytherin team look like a bunch of first years at a random pickup game. The crowd surged to their feet, their support uplifting as it filled the team with a feeling of power and resolve.

Lee was finally heard after a flash of sparks from McGonagall's wand caught the attention of the students that were currently pounding their feet in rhythm on the wooden floors of the stands, a thrumming beat sounding like drums heralding a victorious army home. "And for Gryffindor we have the lovely trio of ladies as chasers, Spinnet, Bell and Captain Johnson, the unbeatable duo of crazy beaters, the Weasley twins. For Keeper, we have Gryffindor's newest Weasley on the team, Ron. And last but definitely not least, the unbeatable… the unstoppable… the incomparable…" McGonagall's voice could be heard muttering, "Just get on with it, Jordan!"

"H-H-H-Harry Potter!" The crescendo of the crowd and the stomping of feet hit a new level of noise that almost made the crowds' ears hurt. Snape and Malfoy had similar twisted expressions of hate and malice on their faces as the rest of the adults crammed into the staff seating area cheered though not as exuberantly as the students had.

The cheering had barely slowed down when the Gryffindor team landed neatly and precisely in front of their green clad and scowling counterparts, Madame Hooch in her black and yellow referee's uniform standing waiting patiently with a large wooden crate rattling in anticipation at her feet. "Now I want a CLEAN game, ladies and gentlemen." She looked particularly hard at the Slytherin team as she announced this.

Malfoy waited for Alicia Spinnet to step up to him and grudgingly grabbed the hand she thrust out, trying to break her fingers as he squeezed, a malicious curl to his thin lips making his normally aristocratic face look ugly and unattractive; but she had offered him her fisted hand and his squeezing was ineffective. Refusing to be baited, Alicia simply held her fist tight while George sent a surreptitious stinging hex from the wand hidden up his wide uniform sleeve, causing Draco to flinch back, tucking his hand under his armpit in a move that caused peals of derisive laughter from the witnessing crowd. The pale faced prat looked around trying to find out who had humiliated him by making it appear that Alicia's grip had hurt his hand but he couldn't find anyone looking particularly guilty so he just glared at the Gryffindors before mounting his broom and signaling with a haughty snap of his head for his teammates to take off; his stiffly pomaded hair not moving in the slightest with the jerking movement.

Unfortunately the game deteriorated quickly after that, the Gryffindor team was quickly able to score a brilliant blitz of goals, pushing the score up to 120 to 0 in their favor before the dastardly and despicable tactics of the Slytherin team became abundantly clear to everyone in the crowded pitch. The beaters and chaser were taking advantage of the fact that Madame Hooch could only look in one direction at a time, so while she was issuing a penalty shot for blatching against Goyle, Crabbe and Montague had pinned little Katie Bell between them; squeezing the girl until they heard the crack of breaking bone before releasing the now dazed chaser to almost fall of her broom at her sudden release from the two brutal behemoths that had assaulted her. With an arm holding tight to her ribs, she refused to land, as that would make her team fly a man down against the brutal tactics of the Slytherins though the pain of her now broken collar bone was clearly etched upon her pasty white face.

Ron Weasley had been targeted for bludger after bludger as he tried in vain to protect the three rings of the Gryffindor goals, but a near miss caused his head to come into sharp contact with one of his own rings, causing a roar of laughter and derisive taunts about his flying skill and questionable parentage from the smirking Slytherins. Even the massive amount of penalty shots being awarded by Madame Hooch couldn't stop the unstoppable climbing of the Slytherin points. When Crabbe deliberately clipped the side of Angelina's head, causing a slash of bright red on her forehead that dribbled a steady stream of blood threatening her vision, the Slytherins finally managed to pull ahead of the much more honorable Gryffindor team who refused to use the gutter tactics of their opponents even if they lost the game because of it.

Snape and Malfoy, Sr. were laughing and making snide comments into each other's ears as the rest of the staff grew increasingly irate at the tactics of the green clad team, while the look of pure glee on Professor Umbridge's face would send any sane person running for cover. The poor Gryffindors were beginning to look like they were in an aerial battle rather than a school Quidditch team. Dumbledore rose, his face showing his clear displeasure and utter disgust at the blatant brutality of student against student. It was unheard of to stop a match in the middle; but this had ceased being a match a long time ago and was rapidly becoming a one sided bloodbath when Harry finally spotted the golden flash of the snitch out of the corner of his eye.

He had been circling at a height of several hundred feet up, trying to avoid Malfoy's feeble attempts at injuring him when he tipped the nose of his Firebolt down into an almost vertical dive, he almost pulled up when the first flare of a missed spell made his hair smoke, the smell of singed hair enraging the wizard as he turned his head over his shoulder and glared at the pointed face of his nemesis. Draco had a wand taped to the inside of his right hand and was muttering spell after spell at Harry as he crouched low over the handle of his broom, urging every inch of speed out of his world class broomstick. As he pulled away from Malfoy, he began to swing back and forth, up and down, keeping his path erratic enough to miss the steady stream of multicolored spells that Malfoy was flinging at his defenseless opponent. Luckily Draco's usual bad aim was even worse on a moving broom against an opponent on a broom moving at over 150 km per hour; so Harry was relieved until he realized that as bad as Malfoy's aim was, he might actually get hit by accident if he didn't finish this off quickly and decisively.

As Harry turned to the north to follow the elusive flight of the small snitch, the sun flashed on the front of Malfoy's broom, revealing a sharp blade attached to the front of the shaft. Surprised at the length that Malfoy was willing to go to in front of hundreds of witnesses, Harry hunched down even further over the polished wood of his beloved Firebolt and dove, straight down, intent upon his goal. He flew up, down and through the startled players, his focus intent and single minded. Malfoy had to stop sending spells at Potter as he was now too low and flying around the other team members like some skier in a bizarre slalom course, his speed never slowing as he wove in and out, avoiding collisions by centimeters, the whirr of the heavy iron bludgers warning him of impact with just enough time to gracefully change his direction. At the speed the very talented seeker was flying, a change of a single centimeter was enough to change his flight path by several meters in just a few seconds.

Harry made a final turn, completely oblivious to the shocked stares of the other twelve players as he focused on the elusive snitch, now floating halfway between Malfoy and himself by some stroke of miserable fortune. Harry saw both the flash of gold from the small ball and the deadly flash of bright silver with an odd green tinge, making some small portion of his brain wonder if Malfoy's blade was poisoned as well. He took off, a blur of crimson and gold, almost too fast to watch, his legs tightening as he planned his strategy in just a split second of frantic thought.

Malfoy hugged his own Nimbus as he snarled at Potter, secure in the knowledge that he was closer to the snitch than the Gryffindork and that he would finally make his watching father proud of him. He pushed his broom faster; his eyes locked on the rapidly approaching Potter when his opponent did something that surprised even him, making him hesitate for a single moment as the distance between the two teenagers closed inexorably. The snitch had made a steep drop, falling almost twenty feet in the blink of an eye. It stopped and just hung in the sunlight, teasing those who sought to catch it.

The entire audience was on its feet, the huge stadium silent as the battle between the two seekers played out at a heart stopping speed, over one hundred feet above them. Harry waited until he was mere seconds from the other seeker before flipping upside down, his arms over his head as he flew directly at Malfoy. Malfoy smirked and pointed the sabotaged broomstick directly at Potter's chest, perhaps he would even manage to kill the bane of his father's master; perhaps that would make the entire wizarding world sit up and take notice. It would be his name that would be remembered with fear. His name would make everyone shudder when his name was spoken. He would join his father in the inner circle and he would make all of the Mudbloods and blood traitors pay for their very existence.

Harry had taken his feet off of the stirrups of his broom and crossed his legs at the ankles, hanging upside down like he loved to do on the metal climbing bars at his old primary school, though he had never attempted it while traveling at over 150 km per hour before. His hair and robes hung straight down, his glasses plastered to his head by his excessive speed, his hands were outstretched and ready, slightly cupped as he neared his goal.

When the first fluttery touch of the snitch registered on his left hand, he closed his hand, instinctively pulling his arm back to cradle the tiny ball against his chest. His momentum from his barrel roll began to turn him up and around on his broom again when pure agony sliced through his consciousness. He looked up to find the maliciously gleeful face of Malfoy hanging triumphantly over him, the deadly shaft of his broom slicing Harry's leg open from knee to ankle before the blade caught in the top of Harry's heavy Quidditch boot.

When the knife caught, the resistance flipped the tip of the boom down, the twigs of the broom flying upward in a spinning arc, flinging Malfoy off the front of his broom like a catapult. Arms twirling madly, legs grabbing ineffectively at nothing, Malfoy screamed a high pitched girlish sound that threatened to break the eardrums of the utterly horrified audience. One trouser leg was caught in the stirrup of his Nimbus, pulling the broom along with his headfirst flight directly toward the ominously near staff section. Both Snape and Malfoy, Sr. were throwing '_arresto momentum'_ but so far every spell had missed the human missile that was aimed directly at them, his broom following as it spun cartwheels through the empty air.

Malfoy's madly flailing foot connected with the twigs of his broom and flipped the broomstick shaft up and over his head before a sickeningly wet and very loud crunching sound announced the meeting of Malfoy with his father. The two sprawled lifelessly over the hurriedly emptied staff benches, the blade that Draco had used to slice open Harry's leg was ironically buried into Lucius' chest, impaling the thoroughly dead man in the heart. Draco was still breathing, but the angle of his limbs was ample proof that he would be visiting Madame Pomfrey before being turned over to the Ministry for charges.

Harry had managed to finish his swing upward, his limp left leg dangled, blood flowing off the bottom of his boot and splashing the grass still seventy five feet below him. He had dropped the snitch when he had felt the first cold and blindingly painful slash of the knife in his leg, instinctively grabbing the thin shaft of this Firebolt with both hands and his right leg. He felt a powerful '_arresto momentum'_ hit him and silently thanked the Headmaster for his help. His vision tunneled in as the unknown poison from Malfoy's blade coursed through his body; the blackness growing as his vision narrowed to a pinprick before disappearing completely as he fell from his broom, his body limp and unmoving as he plunged downward until he hit with a sickeningly dull thud, audible over the completely stunned and silent crowd.

* * *

AN: I know this is short, but it's really just setting the stage for the rest of the story. I promise I will update soon so no potentially fatal flames. And if you want to flame please give me the common courtesy of leaving your name and a way to contact you back.

AN: For my faithful readers of my other stories, _You Broke Him, You Fix Him_ has only one more chapter before its conclusion, and should be finished in the next week or so. Unfortunately _Paddy's Little Pup_ has been shelved for a little while, since my muse is refusing to co-operate and I have been thoroughly disappointed in the writing of the chapter I am currently writing. So for now, I offer this new story. Let me know if I should continue. Thank you for reading and a big thank you for everyone who takes the time to review.


	2. Chapter 2: The Infirmary

Nightmares and Daydreams

By Teacherbev

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I am not a multinational bookselling company, nor am I a multi-million dollar movie company, so I don't own anything that you recognize. I am a retired former teacher who likes to twist plots and play with characters, so enjoy.

Summary: AU 5th Year. Secrets are revealed, alliances are formed and the wizarding world will never be the same again. No slash, no OC. Sevitis.

AN: The way I understand it a Severitis is a story where Severus Snape is the biological father of Harry Potter, while a Sevitis is a mentoring/guardianship type of relationship whether or not Snape actually adopts Harry. Please let me know if I don't understand it correctly. Thanks.

Chapter 2: The Infirmary

No one could recall seeing the plump and usually calm Madame Pomfrey move as quickly as she was now. Running down the stairs of the faculty bleachers so quickly her feet barely touched the risers, she had her wand out and ready before she reached the grass of the Quidditch pitch. She actually beat everyone but his fellow teammates to Harry's side as she plowed through the concerned circle of students shrieking, "Out of my way, move…move…let me to him."

A grey faced Professor Dumbledore panted softly as he reached her side moments later. He pulled a bright purple handkerchief out of his robe pocket and cast '_portus_' before thrusting it into Poppy's hand. She startled when she felt the unfamiliar silk fabric touch her left hand and glanced up at her distressed boss. With a simple nod of thanks, she grabbed her bleeding and unconscious patient firmly in her arms as she knelt on the bloody grass before the two disappeared; leaving behind a spreading circle of bright crimson blood staining the trampled grass and a growing crowd of stunned and silent students and staff.

"Prefects, escort your housemates back to your commons. I will need a roster of any missing students and no one is to leave their house until further notice. Professor Hagrid will you take charge of the Slytherins please? Professor Snape will be busy in the hospital wing and with the investigation. The school is in lockdown." In stunned shock the gathered students silently followed their prefects back toward the castle, the events they had just witnessed so horrifying and totally inexplicable that only a few mutters could be heard as the student body tramped out of the pitch and up the long path.

Umbridge had gone into hysterics, screaming and wailing so that Professor McGonagall had stunned the hyperventilating witch into unconsciousness and levitated her short, squat body out of the way. Severus Snape, his pale face even pastier than normal, splashes of Lucius Malfoy's arterial blood sprayed across his robes and up his neck and face showed in sharp contrast to the bloodless, almost translucent skin of the potions master as he knelt on the bench beside Draco's oddly splayed body. The young Slytherin's labored breathing was marked by loud rattling gurgles; the boy's lungs had been obviously pierced by bone fragments from his fractured ribs when he had impacted at such a high velocity with his father's torso.

Professor Flitwick had covered up Lucius Malfoys body with his cloak and was standing, waiting for orders from the Headmaster, who was now climbing back up to the bloody scene unfolding in the staff bleachers. With a painful, deep sigh Dumbledore took charge and began passing out orders to his expectantly waiting staff. "Pomona, please collect the rosters from the prefects and make sure to send any students who didn't attend back to their commons. Madam Pince will secure the library and help you find any stragglers. Minerva could you floo the Ministry to notify the Minister and send a team of Aurors. I am certain this will hit the Daily Prophet by tonight, but Professor Vector, could you lock down the owlery and seal the floo network after the Auror's arrive, but please leave the Infirmary floo open in case Poppy needs assistance." The staff members mentioned merely nodded in acceptance of their orders and left the deathly silent pitch.

Dumbledore put an aged and slightly shaking hand onto Snape's shoulder, forcing the younger wizard to glance up. "Severus, I need you to take Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing and then stay to assist Poppy. Please make sure both young men remain safe, please."

Snape stood up from the narrow wooden bench he had been kneeling upon, and flicked his wand at Draco, freezing the badly injured teen. A second flick had the boy bound tightly on a conjured stretcher and then floating down the narrow wooden stairs in front of the still somber and silent man.

Dumbledore issued commands to the remaining staff to secure the area, and keep anyone from tampering with it until the Aurors arrived; before turning and beginning the long and lonesome walk to the infirmary, his footsteps seeming to have aged decades in the short time since he had witnessed the brutally senseless attack of one student upon another, and the patricide that had been the unintended consequences of that thoughtless action.

* * *

Still too shocked to even begin to make sense of what he had just witnessed, Snape plodded toward the infirmary, his loudly but erratically breathing burden floating in front of him. 'What had the imbecile been thinking of? Did the insufferable, spoiled prat think no one would actually …notice…as he murdered Potter in front of three fourths of the student body…the staff…the Headmaster…._even his own bloody Father_?' Snape had been forced by his spying duties and other concerns to favor his own house and not only tolerate, but actually praise and encourage young Malfoy; but that didn't mean he didn't know exactly how pitifully useless and spoiled the young git actually was. If he had been allowed to be impartial, he would have cut the Malfoy heir off at the knees in the first week he had attended Hogwarts, but he knew any overt action against the Malfoy heir would be signing his own death warrant.

He was dazedly wondering if he could manage to accidentally…drop…Draco on his head to knock some sense into the brat, when he realized he had reached the huge double doors of the Hospital wing and kicked them open with one foot while he leveraged the bulky stretcher in front of him and over to an empty bed. He dropped the burden unceremoniously as his full attention was drawn to the frantically spelling medi-witch that was hovering over Potter's unnaturally greenish white and still form. He didn't allow it to show, but he was surprised at Potter's continued incapacity. He had noticed the boy's leg was slit from knee to ankle and he probably had a few bruises and cuts from his landing, but the Headmaster had been able to catch his rapidly falling body and cushioned his fall. His own face twisted as he thought of how both he and Lucius had been unable to hit Draco with the same spells. Snape sighed softly as he thought of how he would never have to pretend to like the pretentious and conceited Lucius Malfoy. Without his considerable and totally evil influence, Snape could now clean his own house and whip the Slytherin House back into the proud and cunning organization that it had always been before the insidious poison that had begun with Tom Riddle over fifty years ago.

"Do you need assistance, Poppy? I would have thought Potter's injuries would have been healed before now?" Snape was courteous and polite to the witch who was responsible for caring for him on too many occasions after the Dark Lord's temper tantrums had left him bloody, battered and too damaged to care for himself.

She looked over her shoulder at him, her expression partly horrified panic and partly sheer exhaustion as she momentarily stopped spelling to answer her colleague. "The blade was coated with some poison that I don't recognize. I can't completely stop the bleeding; the wound won't seal, and the toxin is shutting down his nervous system. I need help, Severus! Keep him breathing while I keep his heart beating and try to stop the bleeding more." She went back to her spelling. Severus called a house elf to him with a click of his fingers. "Fetch the knife from the Quidditch pitch. It should still be strapped to the front of Draco Malfoy's Nimbus. Tell whoever is there that the blade is poisoned and it is needed to find out the poison to treat Mr. Potter."

The eyes of little creature widened almost impossibly; as it answered the professor proudly. It realized the importance of its mission, and bowed repeatedly in excitement as it babbled its answer. "Yes, Sir Professor Snape, sir. Yogi's is going right now to fetch it. Yogi's is giving your message just as you's is giving it to me." With another bow the house elf disappeared with a soft 'pop' and Snape pulled his long, ebony wand and began the laborious process of keeping his poisoned student breathing.

* * *

Umbridge had regained consciousness and was screaming obscenities at the top of her annoyingly shrill voice as the entourage of the pompous Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge swept into the almost disserted pitch. A phalanx of eight Aurors flanked him, their crimson robes shining in glaring contrast to the Minister's bizarre lime green robes.

"How dare you… you …arrogant…evil…imbecilic…" Umbridge had been spluttering for many long minutes at McGonagall for stunning her, until Minerva had had enough and turned to the loathsome woman, looking down her sharp aristocratic nose at Umbridge; she drew herself up to her considerable height and said mildly. "It sounds like English; but I can't understand a word you're blabbering. In future, engage your brain before assaulting unsuspecting listeners with a litany of blathering, egregious grammatical errors, infantile vocabulary, and other verbal atrocities that make no logical sense."

As several of the Aurors and staff members stifled amused snorts, the straight laced Transfiguration Professor continued her verbal assault on the odious woman that had been forced upon them by the buffoon now standing open mouthed and glaring at her.

"You wouldn't know left from right if you had three guesses. Well, you're certainly thoughtless; I just wish that you were voiceless, as well. If I had wanted to talk to somebody with your personality, I would be at the blasted pet store talking to the frogs. Maybe you wouldn't sound like such a pathetic loser if you weren't so dumb that even trolls tell jokes about you; or if you didn't have a face that makes people ask: "Merlin, is it Halloween already?" No, come to think of it, you would. In conclusion, thank you. We were all refreshed and challenged by your unique point of view. Now get the bloody hell out of here!" McGonagall turned her back on Umbridge, giving her the cut direct as the assorted Aurors and other staff members finally lost it and broke out in laughter.

Umbridge's face had turned several shades of bright red; the veins in her temples were pulsing angrily as she turned toward Fudge only to discover him laughing at her too. With a disgusted huff, she turned and flounced down the stairs, her arms crossed tightly over her barrel chest, her bottom lip stuck out far enough for a toad to land upon it. The pout and temper tantrum that would have better fit a two year old only caused louder laughter as the stout woman stalked out of the pitch.

McGonagall looked around a little sheepishly, twin round spots of red on her high cheeks showing her embarrassment at having lost her temper so soundly at the annoying woman. "Well, I apologize for my outburst…the events of this afternoon…just so distressing…" Cornelius just reached over and patted her thin arm and whispered conspiratorially, "Quite, alright, Madame, quite alright. She brings that out in me too." He turned to his already dispersing companions who were cataloging and photographing everything as others separated the witnesses to begin getting statements.

* * *

Hermione and the other Gryffindor prefects had performed their house head count as well as trying to console all of the distraught younger students. The Weasley twins were holding court in a massive group of angry and upset students who were vowing revenge upon Malfoy in particular, and all Slytherins in general. Their plots and schemes getting wilder and more outrageous with each passing minute; they grew more and more worried the longer they stewed without any word on how Harry was doing. Hermione brought Katie over to the loudly yelling and gesticulating group and pounded Ron on the back of his shoulder to get his attention. "What should we do about Katie? Her collar bone is still broken, the Professors were all busy …with….Har…" Her voice broke and she was unable to continue to speak as tears welled up and spilled over, silently streaming down her cheeks as the pale image of her best friend flashed before her eyes once more.

Ron wrapped a long arm around the crying girl and pulled her head into his shoulder, whispering soft words as he had done countless times before for his little sister. "Hush, Hermione, he'll be all right. He always is and you know that Pomfrey and the Headmaster won't let anything happen to him." Fred had helped a white faced and shaking Katie over to sit down on the couch right in front of the fireplace, swishing his wand to bring up the fire. He yelled to Angelina, "Yo, Ang…can you bring down a blanket so Katie doesn't go into shock?" His girlfriend ran up the long steps to the girls' dormitories and rushed back down just minutes later with a thick quilt and two soft pillows for her injured teammate.

Fred and Angelina tucked the shocky looking girl into the couch, her head under on pillow and her injured left shoulder and arm propped up gently on the other. She sighed in relief as the warmth and the comfort being offered to her relieved some of the pain. Angelina leaned over her and softly spoke. "Hang in there, Katie we'll send a message with the roster and someone will be here soon to take care of you. It shouldn't be long now." She added an 'I hope' mentally as she noticed how pale and sweaty poor Katie was looking.

Hermione pulled away from Ron after a few minutes and wiped her cheeks with her robe sleeve. She gave a brief smile up at the redheaded fifth year still wearing his sweaty and dirty Quidditch robes, and thanked him. "Sorry I got your sleeve all wet, Ron but thank you, I needed that. Now what are we going to do about that… pompous… arrogant… murderous… lying…little git?" Ron looked impressed as he commented. "Well Hermione why don't you let us know how you really feel about the ferret, why don't you?" A half hearted laugh was all anyone could manage; they were too worried about their friend for anything more. The planning continued as the time seemed to stretch longer and longer without any word.

* * *

A trembling little house elf popped into view right in front of Kingsley Shacklebolt as he was inspecting Draco Malfoy's bloody and destroyed Nimbus broomstick. The long shaft had cracked along the entire length from the force of the impact between Draco and his father and a four inch piece with the knife still secured to it had completely detached from the ruined shaft. The eight inch long serrated blade had been buried to the hilt in Lucius' chest and it had taken all of the bulky and very fit Auror's strength to pull it out for inspection. A flood of rapidly chilling blood had spilled down the once elegant silver grey robes of the dead aristocrat when the knife was removed from the jagged, gaping wound, an odd greenish cast to the blood making Kingsley very suspicion and cautious in his investigation. He held the knife up by the piece of still taped broomstick, so that the blade was at eye level before dropping his arm to secure the blade for transport and analysis at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement lab.

"Yogi's is here for Professor Snape sir. Sir is being telling Yogi that blade be poisoned and he be needing blade to heal Mr. Harry Potter, sir. Yogi is giving you the message, now Yogi be taking the blade to Professor Snape, sir." Without another word, the dripping knife and the elf had both disappeared and Kingsley was left looking surprised at his suddenly empty hand. He told his partner Dawlish where he was going and took off at a fast trot toward the hospital wing and his disappearing evidence.

* * *

As Poppy and Snape were finally bringing Harry into some semblance of stability, Cornelius Fudge had left the investigation and gone to Dolores Umbridge's office with a pair of his most trusted advisors to plot damage control. "That imbecilic boy, there is no way to cover this up…a student…a pureblooded student…tires to murder his classmate…in front of a pitch full of witnesses. What was that moron thinking?"

Cornelius was pacing back and forth, Umbridge still glaring at him for laughing at her earlier. "Oh just get over it, Dolores…you were hysterical and you know it. Get a grip and help me. We must control this situation. Are you sure you saw the dark mark on Lucius' arm, Cooper?" He turned to his most trusted advisor, not that the simpering man ever said anything that contradicted his boss.

"Oh, yes, sir plain as day and well healed. That mark wasn't new; he's probably had it a long time by the sight of it." Cooper was nodded his head up and down, unconsciously mimicking a house elf.

Cornelius flopped down into a student chair and buried his head into his hands in frustration. "How dare he…he tricked me….he swore he was under the Imperious…" The other three gaped in astonishment. They couldn't believe that Cornelius had been that stupid. They had all known that Malfoy was an avid supporter of the Dark Lord; they thought that the Minister was just conveniently overlooking the fact for the political clout, and private financing that Malfoy was well known for.

Smythe spoke up for the first time; he knew he would have to be delicate in how he phrased his suggestions to the Minister, because he, unlike the other two, was actually quite brilliant. He was just more comfortable manipulating the power of the Ministry from behind the scenes, or he would have gotten rid of the idiotic puppet of a minister and his toadies a long time ago. "Sir, if I might?" The proper amount of deference always left a bad taste in the man's mouth, but he knew how to push the idiot's buttons and that was the quickest way. "First we need to get control of the two combatants. With both Potter and young Malfoy at St. Mungo's we can contain them and control any contact they have with the media. Plus it gets them out of Dumbledore's control and into yours, sir. Next, we have to issue our own statement quickly before someone like Skeeter can put her own spin on it. We can suppress the knowledge of Lucius' dark mark, claim young Malfoy was under the 'Imperious'; perhaps put upon him by some dastardly maniac who was upset about Potter's claim that the dark lord has returned, or that Potter killed Cedric Diggory, whichever you like."

Cornelius was sitting up, his head nodding as he grasped the possibilities of what his advisor was suggesting. By the end of Smythe's suggestions, Cornelius Fudge had convinced himself that he had been the one to think them up.

"Yes, yes that should work…get a statement out at once, Smythe. And Dolores make sure the two brats are transferred immediately to St. Mungo's. I'm sure Healer Flinch will be happy to evaluate Mr. Potter's mental status and admit him for long term psychiatric care." He was actually smiling as he thought how the afternoon's events could be twisted and manipulated for his own political agenda.

The four continued to conspire for another few minutes, unaware of the small being that had been cleaning Professor Umbridge's personal quarters and listening very intently through the unnoticed half open door. Dobby had both hands clasped tightly across his mouth so he wouldn't make a sound; he waited until he heard the four raising their voices in disagreement over something before he disappeared with the softest pop he had ever managed.

* * *

When Professor McGonagall had opened the portrait hole to enter the Gryffindor common room she was surrounded by worried and frantically questioning students. "Settle down, settle down and let me speak. First, Mr. Malfoy, Sr. is indeed deceased. Both Mr. Potter and Draco Malfoy are in the Hospital wing, but I don't know their exact condition. The Auror's are still investigating the area, but since we all witnessed the unprovoked attack upon Mr. Potter by Mr. Malfoy; he will be charged with both attempted murder of Harry Potter, and the actual murder of his own father. Now is anyone missing?" The last was directed toward Patricia Stimpson, the seventh year prefect who was standing with a rolled parchment clutched tightly in her fist.

"Everyone's accounted for, Professor. But Katie Bell has a broken collar bone and is looking rather shocky, Ma'am."

With a concerned look upon her usually strict face, the Head of Gryffindor House stepped over beside the pale girl lying under a tightly tucked blanket and leaned down to run a long fingered and delicate hand under her bangs and onto her forehead. Frowning at the cold and clammy feeling of the sixth year girl, she asked her gently, "Miss Bell, do you think you will be able to walk to the Infirmary? Or do you need me to transport you?"

Katie didn't look like she was processing anything being said to her, so Professor McGonagall pulled her wand and flicked a stretcher into existence on the floor in front of the blazing fire. Another gentle flick and Katie; blankets, pillows and all, was floated slowly and laid down gently upon the stretcher. A couple of soft bands circled up and around the injured girl, holding her safe but not uncomfortably. McGonagall took the parchment and stored it in a voluminous robe pocket before levitating the stretcher holding the injured chaser; walking slowly and carefully out of the portrait hole, leaving her house even more worried and upset than before.

* * *

Snape was standing beside Potter, one long hand holding the teen's wrist and checking his pulse and the strength of his still fluttering heartbeat while Poppy was on the other side of the room, forcing a goblet of Skele-Gro down a groggy Draco Malfoy when Yogi popped into the room, a long blood dripping knife held by the short piece of wood it was crudely taped to point down between two long crooked fingers. The unhealthy green of the blade was clearly visible in the sunlight pouring in through the long hospital wing windows. Snape had just dropped Potter's hand and was reaching gingerly for the fractured broomstick shaft when Kingsley rushed into the ward, his wand out and ready for anything. He sighed when he spotted the knife safely in the potion's master's hands but jerked to a stop beside Malfoy's bed and pushed the matron aside as he flicked his wand in a jerky manner that stripped Malfoy down to bare skin in one movement. His green and silver Quidditch robes were blood soaked, torn and almost shredded in spots as Kingsley gingerly floated them about a meter off of the stone floor.

With great care, Kingsley sent a stream of diagnostic spells at the floating robes, a look of satisfaction on his face as one pocket flared bright red, showing the presence of a portkey. He floated the innocuous looking chocolate frog card out of the boy's bloody robes and encased it in a containment bubble before returning to searching the robes for more evidence. Poppy had snorted in disgust at first, but dawning recognition showed as she used her wand to dress the boy in hospital pajamas before pouring a Dreamless Sleep potion down the unresisting teen's throat.

Snape was muttering under his breath, a combination of obscenities and comments on the Malfoy heir's lack of intelligence and possible paternity, none of it flattering or strictly humanly feasible. His eyebrows were almost touching as he contemplated the probable identity of the poison still dripping down the blade held so cautiously on a scrap of conjured fabric in his upturned palm. He wrapped the blade in the thick cloth and placed it carefully inside his robe, while turning to summon several brightly colored potions from the already open potions cabinet on the opposite wall. He had all three of them in his hands, checking their viscosity and strength when a loud pop made him clutch them tightly to his chest, afraid he might drop the precious antidotes. His mouth twisted as he took a deep breath to berate the blasted annoyance when what the little beast was saying registered.

"They is coming…they is taking away Dobby's Harry Potter. Dobby is not letting them take him to nasty St. Mungo's. They is saying Healer Flinch is locking Dobby's Harry Potter away for sy..sy..ki…a..triac…they is saying the most wonderful Harry Potter is crazy…Dobby is saving you, sir…Dobby is saving Harry Potter, sir."

Before Kingsley or Poppy could even react, Dobby grabbed Snape's arm in one hand, Harry's flaccid hand in the other; and with a loud crack of displaced air, the three disappeared, leaving a gobsmacked Auror and a muttering and loudly raging Medi-witch behind.

* * *

AN: I am so mean, I know it…but it's just so much fun! Any guesses as to where the three will show up? And what about Draco? 


	3. Chapter 3: Where Are We?

Nightmares and Daydreams

By Teacherbev

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I am not a multinational bookselling company, nor am I a multi-million dollar movie company, so I don't own anything that you recognize. I am a retired former teacher who likes to twist plots and play with characters, so enjoy.

First off, I wanted to let you know I'm very much enjoying your newest story! (can't wait to see what happens!) And secondly, I wanted to answer your question about the term 'Sevitus.'  
'Sevitus' actually refers to any father/son (usually biological, though not always) relationship between Snape and Harry, that does not follow the requirements of the challenge I issued so many years ago...; The term was invented by JanAQ for her Snape/Harry Gen website, If you get a chance, I'd highly recommend the website. :) Best of luck on your stories!

Severitus

AN: Thank you Severitis for your nice review and the explanation. And big hugs and thank yous for all of you who have supported and encouraged my muse. I just posted the final chapter of You Broke Him, You Fix Him; I am working on a chapter for Paddy's Little Pup that is about half done and then this one for you to read, so enjoy! I will try to complete both of the WIP stories before I begin full time classes at OU in January. It has been many years since I attended college full time, so I don't know how much free time I will have and don't want to make you wait too long for updates. I will settle into a routine before starting any sequels or new stories after that. I have been trying to post this for the last three days but only got error messages from FF!

From Chapter 2:

_Snapes eyebrows were almost touching as he contemplated the probable identity of the poison still dripping down the blade held so cautiously on a scrap of conjured fabric in his upturned palm. He wrapped the blade in the thick cloth and placed it carefully inside his robe, while turning to summon several brightly colored potions from the already open potions cabinet on the opposite wall. He had all three of them in his hands, checking their viscosity and strength when a loud pop made him clutch them tightly to his chest, afraid he might drop the precious antidotes. His mouth twisted as he took a deep breath to berate the blasted annoyance when what the little beast was saying registered._

"_They is coming…they is taking away Dobby's Harry Potter. Dobby is not letting them take him to nasty St. Mungo's. They is saying Healer Flinch is locking Dobby's Harry Potter away for sy..sy..ki…a..triac…they is saying the most wonderful Harry Potter is crazy…Dobby is saving you, sir…Dobby is saving Harry Potter, sir."_

_Before Kingsley or Poppy could even react, Dobby grabbed Snape's arm in one hand, Harry's flaccid hand in the other; and with a loud crack of displaced air, the three disappeared, leaving a gobsmacked Auror and a muttering and loudly raging Medi-witch behind._

Chapter 3: Where Are We?

Snape tried to catch his breath and slow his pounding heart down as he rematerialized still clutching the precious potions flasks to his chest. He yanked his hand out of the miscreants grasp and looked around, trying to find some hint as to where the little nutter had somehow apperated them to. He noticed that he was standing beside a large four poster bed and that Potter was lying on top of the sheet covered comforter; his face and body still pasty white and unmoving. The little elf was still babbling loudly, and Snape forcibly fixed his attention back to what it was rambling on about.

"You's is safe here, sirs. Dobby has been hoping that Master Harry Potter would be his Master, so Dobby and Master Harry Potter's three elves has been making Harry Potter sir's house ready for him. You's is helping Harry Potter to be well so Dobby is helping yous too. Dobby will help you and keep Master Harry Potter safe and well and then Master Harry Potter will be Dobby's Master and Dobby will be bringing Winky to help us's too. Oh, sir what is you needing to be helping my Master Harry Potter sir?" Dobby stood silently, his ears drooping with exhaustion as he waited impatiently for Snape to tell him what he need to heal his Master.

"Uh, elf…Dobby is it? I need to feed Potter these potions first and then I will need a fully stocked potions laboratory to analyze and brew an antidote to the poison on Mr. Malfoy's knife. Is there a potion's lab here…where ever here is?" Snape's face had lost its usual impassivity in the series of shocks he had suffered all day long.

Snape listened, his mind sorting through Dobby's rambling and disjointed speech as he carefully lifted Potter's shoulders, the boy's slack head lolling against his shoulder as he slowly and carefully dribbled measured portions of each potion down the slack jaw, taking his time to make sure the boy reflexively swallowed before dribbling more into his open mouth. By the time he had all three potions down the teen, the babbling of the little elf had finally begun to make some semblance of order and Snape felt secure enough to come to some conclusions.

As he floated the teenager, noting with a sense of professional pride that the child was now breathing easier, and had at least regained a little color to the deathly white cheeks; he flicked his wand and the almost nude child, his right leg wrapped thickly in white bandages from thigh to toe, slipped under the thick feather comforter. He reached down a hand, and pulled the heavy cover up to the comatose boys chin tucking him in tightly. He sat down heavily on a comfortable arm chair beside the bed and turned his attention to the finally silent and uncharacteristically drooping house elf.

A tired sigh escaped his lips as he spoke, too tired to be menacing any more. "So Dobby, you over heard the Minister and Professor Umbridge plotting to have Potter committed to St. Mungo's with the help of a corrupt healer, and took it upon yourself to save him, bringing me along with you somehow. You didn't take the time to tell the Headmaster or anyone else and now Potter and I are at the ancient manor house of the Potter family. A house you have been cleaning and restoring in the hopes that Potter will bind you to him at some point in the future; and live here with you, and some other elf named Winky plus three other unknown elves. Right so far?" Snape raised an elegant eyebrow as he waited for the elf to answer.

"Oh yes Master Snape sir, you's is right…you's is right." Dobby was nodding so hard his ears were creating a small breeze.

Snape held up a hand to stop the elf from continuing. "And now we are stuck in a house with anti-apparition wards, anti-portkey wards and no floo connection. A house, I might add, that no one knows the location of… or that it even exists. A house still under a fidelius with …exactly whom… as the secret keeper? A house that everyone believes was destroyed almost six decades ago when Grindelwald attacked the Potters."

Dobby continued to nod, a gnarly finger held tightly against his lips to keep him from speaking as the Professor continued. "You've been using every spare moment free from your duties at Hogwarts for the last year after the rebirth of the Dark Lord refurbishing this house, stocking the kitchens and the potions labs; as well as bringing items from the Potter vault here to make a home for Potter without his knowledge or consent. Do I have that right?" Another series of tired and timid nods greeted his conclusions. "And it took all of the magic you could summon, and an extraordinary effort for you to transport us here, since I have never heard of a house elf being able to transport a single wizard, let alone two."

Snape steepled his fingers and took several deep breaths as he took stock of the situation and how their current predicament would impact his future plans. He nodded once at his own conclusion and stood up, straightening his robes with an unconscious movement. "Very well, Dobby. Since neither Potter nor I can leave or even send a message out without your assistance, call for your friend Winky and let us begin. I will need you to watch Potter very carefully. Please notify me of any change in his breathing or his heartbeat or if his condition changes in any way. Can Winky prepare fortified broths for Potter and meals for the rest of us?"

Dobby now looked like Christmas had come early and grinned. "Oh yes, Master Snape, Winky is being a most excellent cook and cleaner. And Dobby is being used to helping heal. Dobby used to be bound to Malfoys." An expression of disgust appeared only to be replaced by a look of resolution.

"Dobby will care for Master Harry sir; you's can be doing what's you needs to and Dobby's will be able to call to Winky soon, Dobby will need to rest until tonight though." Dobby looked around the room for something to punish himself with, before Snape grabbed the trembling elf with a strong hand, pulling him back to his side. "We do not have time for you to punish yourself, Dobby. I need to be able to leave Potter in your care, the longer the poison is active, the more damage it does. I have slowed the poison, but it is still there." Dobby went cross-eyed in concentration as he figured out what the dour man was telling him, before nodding in understanding and climbing up on the bed beside his beloved Harry Potter. He took the boy's wrist in his hand the way he had seen Professor Snape do and looked resolutely up at the tall wizard looming over him.

"Good, I will be in the potions lab downstairs. I will need to analyze the poison on the blade as it is unknown to me. If I need you I will summon you, and you may come and fetch me if Potter needs me. I may also need to send you or Winky to my lab at Hogwarts to fetch some potions ingredients if necessary, the other elves would not be able to pass Hogwarts wards as I believe the school will be in full lock down. Will you be able to get in and out without anyone seeing you? It is imperative that we keep Mr. Potter's location secret from the Ministry until this mess is sorted out."

"Yes sir, but Dobby is not being able to take anyone with him, Dobby's magic is no longer strong enough. Dobby must bond to Master Harry before Dobby's magic is being strong enough to bring along wizards ever again." Dobby hung his head in shame at having to admit he had lost a great deal of his magic in bring the three of them to safety.

Snape's mouth twitched in an almost smile as he thought of the pandemonium now going on at Hogwarts before turning, and with a trademark billow of his robes he left the room, intent upon finding the potions lab.

* * *

Harry had been floating in black nothingness for a long time. He didn't know how long for there was nothing to judge the passing of time against. He dimly noticed a soft lightening of the darkness in one direction and somehow 'floated' himself in that direction, his mind becoming aware enough to be curious about the phenomenon.

As he approached the lightening area, it grew and grew until it appeared to be a room, but somehow everything in the room was distorted and out of proportion to him. His body tingled as the numbness he hadn't even been aware of receded, and he could feel his arms and legs once more. The white noise in his head faded until he recognized the soft murmur of voices in another room; but they were too far away to understand beyond a vague impression of both a male and a female voice speaking comfortably, and a vague sense of recognizing the people who were speaking.

As he became more awake, he found himself sitting on the floor between a very tall and oversized long table and an even larger couch. A fuzzy soft rug was underneath him as he sat and looked around, his tired eyes blinking as he tried to make some sense of what he was seeing. He didn't recognize the room; yet it was comforting in a homey sort of way. The furniture and walls seemed to have been sized for someone larger than Hagrid though. He looked up and up, taking in the very tall ceilings, the huge white fireplace with the small fire burning in it, and the comfortable but oddly familiar placement of the oversized furniture.

Harry pushed himself up on wobbly legs, grabbing onto the table that was chest high to him for support; as he analyzed his surroundings, a puzzled expression upon his face. He let go of the table and almost fell down. 'Hmmm, bad idea. Last thing I remember is the Quidditch game…and then…wait, didn't Malfoy try to….' The gaps in his memory started to fill in as he remembered the game, and the bizarre behavior of the Slytherin seeker. He flinched as he remembered the searing pain of his leg being sliced open, so he looked down and dropped his jaw at what he was seeing. Fat, chubby little bare feet, short bowlegged legs topped by a nappy…A NAPPY! 'Great Merlin's beard, why was he wearing a NAPPY?' His eyes trailed up his body further and discovered a short dark green t-shirt and chubby baby arms with short stubby baby hands on the ends of them. He sat back down only to find his legs didn't work properly and he merely fell down straight legged to land on the thick padding of the nappy.

His mind churning in panic, he tried to sort through everything and make some sense of the bizarre plight he found himself in. 'This can't be real, it must be some kind of weird dream, brought on by some of Madame Pomfrey's potions. Maybe Snape slipped some hallucinogenic mushrooms into the potion knowing it was for me…yeah that must be it…I'm in some sort of psychedelic hallucination. Aunt Petunia is always watching shows on the telly about that kind of thing.'

Harry decided he would just go with the bizarre dream; after all, it was a lot better than dreaming about the death of Cedric, or the visions of Voldemort killing everyone he loved that he normally dreamt about. He managed to pull himself up again using the table on one side and the huge couch on the other. His legs didn't want to stay steady for him, so he wobbled a bit as he made his way down the long sofa and looked around the end, trying to catch a glimpse of the people he could still hear softly talking. A rhythmic sound caught his attention, and he focused in on the deep breathing and soft snore coming from a corner next to the softly burning fire. 'Hey wait, that had to be Sirius in his animagus form as Padfoot! I would recognize that overgrown, long haired mutt anywhere. I must be dreaming about when I still lived with my Mum and Dad.' A single tear of happiness trickled down the pudgy little cheek, as Harry gathered up his courage to let go of the table and walk over to Padfoot where he was sleeping curled up on a large semi-circular Oriental hearth rug.

As his hand slipped forward the last foot of the table, Harry brushed against something that made him stop in wonder. He had felt a surge of power like he had never felt before, even when he had first picked up his holly and phoenix feather wand at Olivander's Wand Shop. He focused his eyes and caught the sight of a long slender shaft that was lying on the table next to an open jar of wand polish and a couple of soft cloths. Screwing up his face in determination, Harry stood up on tiptoe, his hand stretched out as far as it would go. 'Blast, its still too far away…hmmm…I wonder…' he held out his hand and said "Accio wand." But what came out was, "ak..oh…wa."

He focused on the wand and silently said, 'Accio wand' with all the determination and power he could focus. The wand wobbled, and jiggled. He repeated his mental call, more confident and sure. The wand turned on its axis and slid with a jerking motion until the handle slapped into his outstretched hand with a satisfying thud. The wand lit up like a bonfire, making Harry close his eyes and flinch at the spots he was now seeing. A surge of power energized his body until he felt he could almost fly without a broom with that wand in his hand.

An evil Slytherin grin upon his cute little baby face, he turned toward the still sleeping and totally unaware figure of his godfather. A series of silent spells and soft flashes of light later, and he couldn't stop himself from giggling loudly. The voices in the other room halted; so with a final flick and swish of the stolen wand, Harry levitated Padfoot and placed him into the large playpen that was set up at a secure distance from the fireplace and fell to all fours, the wand held tight in his toothless gums, a small trail of drool dripping down the polished length.

It took him a moment, but he got the hang of crawling rapidly as he scooted over and under the tall coffee table so he could see the empty doorway and the playpen both, without being immediately visible to anyone walking into the room. The silence from the other room grew as he giggled again, an odd cooing noise he never suspected he would ever hear issuing from his own mouth sounding loud in the stillness.

"Ah, Harry's awake but I don't hear Paddy. Perhaps I better check on them; who knows what mischief my little Marauder might get up to." The man's voice sounded amused and proud at the same time as it came nearer and nearer to the open door.

The very familiar face that looked so startlingly like his own appeared at the open doorway, and paused for a single moment before James Potter clutched his stomach as he doubled over in almost silent laughter. He held one hand in front of his mouth trying desperately not to wake up Padfoot, but he needn't have bothered for the dog animagus was sound asleep, his tongue lolling gently as he continued to breath deeply and evenly, oblivious to the world around him. "Lilly, love fetch the camera…I do believe your little angel has been awake a lot longer than we thought!" James said softly over his shoulder.

With the afternoon sun shimmering in her auburn locks, Lily Potter looked like an angel as she came up behind her husband and looked around his still laughing form into the living room. She brought a slender fingered, elegant hand to her own mouth as her shoulders began to shake with suppressed mirth. She squeezed up and around James as he blocked the doorway; looking around for her little miscreant before spotting him safely hiding under the coffee table. Her wand in hand, she summoned the camera from where it always sat at the ready on her desk, and with a practiced motion began taking pictures of the loudly snoring dog scrunched still obliviously sleeping in the playpen.

Harry had decorated his godfather's dog form with a multitude of small braids, each tied in several spots with a rainbow of brightly colored ribbons and oversized bows that were shaking gently with each breath the long haired black dog took. A particularly huge pink and purple striped bow hung down over his forehead and twitched right between his closed eyes.

Lily leaned over to James and stage whispered, "Have I ever explained the concept of photo Christmas cards to you James?" She couldn't help it any more and began laughing just as loudly as her husband. Paddy stretched and opened his eyes, his tail thumping a greeting as he wondered what his two friends found to be so funny.

He had just stood up and realized the baby he was supposed to be watching in the playpen was no longer _in_ the playpen, and had actually traded spots with him without him even noticing; when the fireplace floo-ed a telltale green and the thin form of Remus Lupin stepped out of the fire, brushing soot off of his threadbare dark brown robes as he stood up and looked around at the room. He spotted the baby looking too innocent to be real under the table and headed for Harry, intent upon picking him up when he realized that James and Lily were actually laughing so hard they were both hiccoughing and had tears in their eyes.

A growling woof made him turn and stop, his mouth open in astonishment and then absolute delight; before his thin shoulders began to shake with repressed mirth. "Ah, Paddy…didn't know you went in for that sort of thing. You know it takes a real man to be able to pull off the multiple braids and bows look…but I have to admit …it looks good on you!" He managed to force out around his own guffaws as Padfoot glared and growled at all three adults in the room.

Padfoot jumped out of the confining playpen and shook himself but only a couple of the bows went flying so he turned back into Sirius Black, only to hear the howls of laughter that surrounded him increase in volume. A quickly conjured mirror proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that the bows and braids still adorned his long black hair even in human form. He dropped the mirror and it disappeared before it hit the ground as he lunged at Lily who was once more snapping picture after picture of him.

He had only made a couple of running steps toward her when he was tackled to the couch by both James and Remus, who were now red faced and gasping. He groaned and began pulling bows out of his hair, ignoring the pain and the few odd hairs he was yanking out of his head in his hurry to be rid of the unwanted and despicable adornments. He glared at his two friends who still had him pinned to the couch, and finally made the connection. "Why that little….where is he…where is the little…when I get my hands on him….I'm gonna…." He was spluttering as a giggling little Harry stood up beside him and reached two pudgy and sweaty hands up and around his neck. A toothless, gummy wet kiss left a spit trail down his cheek as Harry spoke. "Paddy…p'etty…ni' doggie. Baby love Paddy!"

James and Remus let up a now grinning Sirius who scooped up the toddler into his strong arms and planted a much drier kiss on the chubby little cheek. "And Paddy loves Harry too, just not with bows next time." He looked around at his two friends and raised an eyebrow. "Any suggestions as to how the little bugger…er boy managed to do such focused magic?"

Harry put his head down on the strong and warm shoulder of his godfather, enjoying the rumble of his voice through his cheek as he drifted off into sleep, only to drown once more in the un-relentless blackness of unconsciousness.

* * *

Only seconds after the disappearance of Dobby, Snape and Harry; the double doors of the infirmary banged open, and the Minister and his entourage made a regal entrance, Cornelius shouting orders as he came through the doors, unaware of the latest happenings in the hospital wing.

"Parkinson, ready the Potter boy to be transported to St. Mungo's; they have already been notified of his impending arrival, nothing to good for the 'Boy-Who-Lived' now is there." His false cheeriness and ingratiatingly pretentious voice shattered the stunned silence of the ward.

Without even looking around to see if his orders were being followed, he directed a pair of Aurors to seize the Malfoy child, and remove him to the Ministry holding cells for interrogation as soon as Madame Pomfrey released him. He finally looked up and noticed that Potter was no where to be found. His face turning red, he spluttered and spit until he finally managed to yell, "Dumbledore…what is the meaning of this?"

A solemn Headmaster came around the corner behind them and into the now crowded infirmary, a look of innocent concern and bewilderment upon his ancient face. "Ah Cornelius, what is the meaning of …what? He folded his arms, his hands in the cuffs of his robes so that his hands weren't visible at all.

Fudge just waved an arm around in a vague manner while still spluttering. "Where's Potter…what have you done with the boy? I _demand_ that you take me to him at once!"

A raised eyebrow was the only answer his ranting got from the old wizard. "Is he not here…that is where I sent him with the portkey. Poppy?" He turned to the medi-witch and looked down his long crooked nose at her; his surprise was clearly visible on his very concerned face.

"Well, Headmaster…he was here and Severus…well Professor Snape was keeping an eye upon his vitals while I tended to Mr. Malfoy," her lip curled with distaste as she spit out Draco's name, "and I heard Mr. Shacklebolt come into the ward, but I was busy healing Mr. Malfoy's multiple broken bones and didn't notice anything else. Is Mr. Potter gone? He can't be…he isn't stable yet…he could die if he is moved….the poison is still active." She flopped down into the visitor's chair beside Draco's bed and dropped her head into her hands; too bewildered by the loss of her patient and the sheer exhaustion from the magic she had expended just to stabilize Harry to notice much else.

The rest of the group turned their attention to the very tall and well muscled black Auror who stood beside a rumpled but empty bed. "I was investigating the knife at the scene when a house elf popped up and gave me a message that the blade was needed to analyze a potion to heal Mr. Potter. It disappeared with the knife before I could say anything and then I ran up here. I arrived just in time to see a flash of light and then this empty bed. It certainly wasn't a portkey or apparition. I didn't recognize the magic used at all. I didn't hear anything or see anything else. I suspect that Professor Snape is in his laboratory trying to identify the specific poison so he can brew an antidote… if there is one." The auror stopped speaking and stood stolidly, his arms crossed as if daring anyone to question his testimony.

Fudge turned back to Dumbledore and demanded he return Potter at once. He even stomped his feet in frustration and screamed several times, but Albus steadfastly maintained his innocence in the disappearance of Mr. Potter. He finally pulled his wand and swore a wizard's oath that he had no knowledge of either Mr. Potter's disappearance or of his current whereabouts. Knowing Dumbledore could not lie to something with such an oath, Fudge was gathering his party together to leave when a low moan turned their attention back to the bed where Draco Malfoy was beginning to stir.

Fudge swooped down on the still groggy teen and began demanding answers from him. "Why did you try to kill Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy? Are you working for someone else? Who gave you the orders to kill him? What type of poison was on the blade?" The questioning would have been more effective if he had waited until Draco were fully conscious; or if he had waited long enough for an answer before firing off another question, but he did neither.

A loud moaning groan later, Draco Malfoy forced one bloodshot grey eye open and jerked back from staring directly into the manic red face of the Minister of Magic. Almost nose to nose, Draco flinched again while running his hands up and down his sides, feeling for his pockets. Kingsley loomed over the supine form of his prisoner and told him, "Your robes are gone, and so is your portkey, Mr. Malfoy."

Smythe pushed Kingsley out of the way and motioned for Parkinson to take his place. "You are needed to continue processing the scene Mr. Shacklebolt. Senior Auror Parkinson has custody of the prisoner, now return to your duty or face a disciplinary mark in your file." A shrug later and Kingsley marched out of the infirmary, vowing to find something, anything that might give them a clue to where Harry Potter had disappeared to.

As Parkinson stood stoically on his right side, Fudge leaned in close on Draco's left and continued to question the teen. Draco tried to swallow several times, but his throat was too dry from the potions that had been forced into him. He made an inarticulate noise of distress before he clasped his hands tightly over his pajama clad chest; fumbling his fingers together as he tried to formulate a plausible answer to the continuing questions that were being fired his way. The questioning had continued for many long moments before a cunning and sly look flashed in the grey eyes. A look of feral glee flitted across his face as he grabbed the Minister's robes in one bloodstained fist; Draco brought the other hand up, his right thumb making contact with the ring on his clenched left hand. A startled squeal of protest was all that was heard from Minister Fudge as a hysterically laughing Draco Malfoy activated the portkey in his ring and the pair disappeared in a swirl of bright colors.

* * *

Snape had finally found the right door to lead down to the dungeons of the massive and eerily empty manor house. A flick of his wand caused the torches on the staircase leading down into the darkness to flare brightly. He cautiously began his descent, hoping the potions lab was located fairly close. The weight of the knife wrapped in its protective cover deep in his pocket banging against his thigh with each step, reminding him of the time he had wasted while lost.

He pushed open the first door on the left and flicked the torches up, sighing in relief at the sight of the gleaming and well stocked potions lab that greeted his sight. As he turned to enter the room, he spotted a small dark shadow creeping closer and closer towards him from deeper within the dungeon.

His heart pounding as his adrenalin pulsed; he shook in smirking wonder his head at his own subconscious reaction. 'I'm a spy among the death eaters, what could a Potter dungeon hold that could possible scare me?' Fighting against his own reflexes, he shot a beam of bright light down the corridor to spotlight the form of a strange little house elf coming toward him. He could hear it mumbling to itself as it dropped its head and bowed, forehead touching the cold stone of the dungeon floor.

"Master has returned, master has returned…" The joy in the little creature's voice was clearly audible as it continued to bow and approach. "Master Potter it been too long, but Tippy be keeping the lab for you, just as you likes it. Tippy's is glad to be seeing you, Master Potter. Tippy's is being so glad."

A loud gasp came from Tippy when he raised his head and realized the man standing in front of him not only wasn't his Master, he didn't even appear to be a Potter. He squinted his eyes against the light from Snape's wand, his little forehead scrunched up in concentration. A look of understanding and happiness grew the longer the little elf looked. "You is being Mistress Lily's brother…She is always telling Tippy about her brother. I is pleased to be helping Master Severus Snape, sir. But Mistress Lily is being telling Tippy that Master Severus is not knowing he is the brother of Mistress Lily. How is you here, sir?"

The elderly elf clapped his hands and two more ancient and decrepit elves appeared beside Snape, helping the gobsmacked and speechless man into a waiting chair. A large goblet of icy water appeared and Tippy helped Snape drink it, regaining some of his lost composure. He shook his head, making his long greasy hair fly as he forced himself to the task at hand, pushing the ancient elf's startling revelation deep into the recesses of his mind. He would have to sort out this new information later, for now he had a poison to identify and an antidote to brew.

Snape stood up, ignoring the slight shake to his knees and pushed the three little elves that were hovering around him, wringing their hands in worry at his dismay, away. As he reached the gleaming marble of the brewing station, he carefully pulled Malfoy's knife out of its pocket and unwrapped it, being careful not to touch the bare blade. The sickening green of the poison showed starkly against the gleam of the steel blade, Lucius Malfoy's and Harry Potter's blood swirled together in a deadly stain down the length of the blade and up the long intricately carved silver handle.

Snape quickly put all three elves to work in fetching and preparing ingredients for the _acclero_ potion that would reveal if the blade had been coated with one of the twenty-five most common poisons. Snape was almost positive that the scheme had not originated with the Dark Lord. Therefore the poison would most likely be something that Draco had managed to procure on his own. He knew for certain that Lucius would not have condoned such a blatant attack in a public place, the elder Malfoy had worked best behind the scenes and preferred to keep his veneer of respectability intact.

* * *

A white faced Katie Bell was escorted back into the Gryffindor Common room almost two hours after she had left it, accompanied by the Deputy Headmistress. Professor McGonagall's lips were tightly pursed, and her face looked old and drawn with the multiple shocks of the very long day. She used her wand to shoot sparks in the air and told everyone to sit down and be quiet. "I will tell you all that I know, but I don't know much. You all witnessed the attack by Mr. Malfoy during the match today. I can confirm the he did kill his father in that attack. Mr. Potter sustained a long slice to his leg from a poisoned knife that was attached to the front of Mr. Malfoy's broom. Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape were eventually able to stop the bleeding, but the poison attacks the nervous system. Shortly after that Mr. Potter and Professor Snape disappeared from the infirmary."

She put up both hands and glared as all of the students erupted in angry shouts and questions flew. "No, Professor Snape did not kidnap Mr. Potter…we know that a house elf was involved but nothing further has been discovered. Now I probably shouldn't tell you this, but it will most likely be in the morning's Daily Prophet so…Minister Fudge was questioning Mr. Malfoy when Mr. Malfoy activated a portkey and escaped, taking the Minister with him. Nothing is known about his destination, but the aurors are searching for both Minister Fudge and Mr. Potter."

She sighed deeply, looking at her stunned lions with deepest regret at having to tell them such distressing news before turning on her heel and leaving through the portrait hole, her shoulders slumped in tiredness and defeat.

* * *

AN: Thank you to all of you who have read my story and special thanks to those of you who have made the extra effort to leave a review. I appreciate each and every one of you. 


	4. Chapter 4: The Acclero Potion

Nightmares and Daydreams

By Teacherbev

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I am not a multinational bookselling company, nor am I a multi-million dollar movie company, so I don't own anything that you recognize. I am a retired former teacher who likes to twist plots and play with characters, so enjoy.

AN: A note on my belief of Harry's power. A recurring theme of all of my stories is that Harry is a powerful wizard; to support this I cite the following. As a child Harry apperated to the top of his school, he grew his hair back when his Aunt cut it as well as making his teacher's hair blue and other unspecified 'abnormalities'. He wandlessly and wordlessly blew up his Aunt Marge at twelve, he cast a corporeal patronus at thirteen, he 'Accio-ed' his broom from a very long distance away at fourteen, and he learns defensive spells quickly and easily (he taught himself almost all of the ones he used in the Tri-Wizard tournament and those he taught to the DA). The prophecy said Voldemort 'marked' him as his equal, it doesn't say 'his equal when he is ten, or fifteen, or even seventeen'. Harry was Voldemort's equal when he marked him… at fifteen months. After all Harry was able to not only stop Voldemort's spell in the graveyard after he was injured by the spider and the bloodletting and exhausted by the tournament, but he literally forced the spell back and into Voldemort's wand. To me that means that Harry overpowered Voldemort's magic at only fourteen years of age, while gravely injured and in shock … that's one powerful little puppy. Don't agree … tell me why, I'm open to your opinion if you can back it up.

Chapter 4: The Acclero Potion

The Ministry for Magic was in chaos. First Draco Malfoy had tried to kill Harry Potter, second, he had succeeded in killing his own father, though no one thought he had actually intended to commit patricide, and thirdly, the Minister himself had disappeared with the aforementioned Draco Malfoy; to some undisclosed location, for some unknown purpose. Most of the witches and wizards within the Ministry actually believed Harry Potter had been telling the truth when he returned bloody and traumatized at the end of the third task of the Tri-wizard Tournament last year; the dead body of his classmate gripped tightly in one hand, the cursed trophy in the other; but with Cornelius Fudge zealously refusing to acknowledge the dark wizards return, they had been unable to accomplish much. After all, the boy had just won the Tri-Wizard Tournament; if he was only after fame and glory that, combined with his being the Boy-Who-Lived, would have garnered him the front page of The Daily Prophet for the entire summer, and most likely his own Chocolate Frog card. There was just nothing for either Harry Potter or Albus Dumbledore to gain in declaring that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned.

Within moments of news of the abduction of Cornelius Fudge reaching the Ministry for Magic, the Inner Council of the Wizengamot used that kidnapping to invoke the Emergency War clause of the Ministry's charter to declare a state of emergency. Their first act was to appoint Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as the Minister Pro Tem. Her first act was to fire Fudge's personal advisors and have all of their belongings removed, the second to have all of their passwords replaced and competent people called in to be vetted and approved by an emergency meeting of the full Wizengamot. She smiled in satisfaction as the belongings of the odious Dolores Umbridge were boxed and forwarded to her residence at Hogwarts. Umbridge would have been first in line to take control of the Ministry, except for her leave of absence status. In leaving for a year to take the open DADA position at Hogwarts personally, she had effectively removed herself from the chain of command, and left her most hated political enemy in the spot instead. Amelia knew that Zachariah Cooper was nothing more than a 'yes man' but she was ecstatically happy to remove Phyllias Smythe from his unofficial position of 'power behind the throne'. The man's manipulations and plots had effectively bound the stern witch's hands in her own department for so long, that she promised herself a stiff Firewhiskey after work in celebration of his removal. But for now, she had the business of stopping panic, stabilizing the wizarding world, and finally beginning to fight against the evil that had been allowed to grow unchecked for the last year.

Amelia looked up as Kingsley Shacklebolt ducked his head to enter her new office, the tall black Auror automatically ducked his bald head when entering or leaving a room, whether the doorway was tall enough for him to safely enter or not. "Madame Minister," a broad grin showed straight white teeth as the man smiled from ear to ear in deep satisfaction. "You have no idea how wonderful that sounds, Amelia!" The two had been friends as well as colleagues for many years, and both had been frustrated at the constraints and roadblocks their idiotic Minister had shackled them with for the last ten years.

"Can you give me a report, Shack?" Madame Bones had an equally manic smile on her face, her monocle tightly squeezed with her cheek muscles as she watched Kingsley flop down into the chair in front of her parchment buried desk.

"Still haven't found hide nor hair of the elf that disappeared with Potter and Snape; though some of the portraits reported hearing Cornelius planning on locking the boy away in the mental ward at St. Mungo's, and the elf vowing to stop that from happening. Still don't know where they are, or how an elf managed to disappear from Hogwarts with two human passengers. Also no sign of the Malfoy boy, his mother claims to have no knowledge of what he did, and is putting on an act of the 'bereaved widow' that isn't fooling anyone. Especially after the temper tantrum she threw when she got an owl from Gringotts, informing her that all of the Malfoy vaults have been frozen pending Draco's trial; and all that she has is access to, are the remnants of a single small vault of galleons left from her dowry. Man, for a pureblood aristocrat, that witch has a mouth that would make a muggle sailor blush!" Kingsley's deep baritone filled the room with his laughter at the memory. His face turned serious once more as he continued his report. "We were unable to find any traces of the poison used in Mr. Malfoy's belongings, but we are still searching the castle and Malfoy Manor for any clues. Poppy Pomfrey said she didn't recognize it, and that Severus Snape apparently didn't either, which really worries me. I sure hope the Potter boy is still alive and safe… wherever they are."

Amelia nodded her head in agreement and pulled a stack of parchments towards her; straightening them before handing them across her desk to the Auror. "I have these arrest warrants processed and signed. Send only Aurors that you can trust, but make sure you get all of the Death Eaters that Harry Potter witnessed at the rebirth of Voldemort last year. There is no use in letting them escape justice any longer. Oh, and make sure their vaults are frozen too, while we sort out how involved their spouses are. Also, send Auror Tonks with a solicitor's pensieve to take testimony on Sirius Black's innocence. I don't intend to continue the charade that Fudge built up; that he didn't deserve a trial because he was so obviously guilty." Her voice had turned decidedly sarcastic by the time she ended speaking. At Kingsley's satisfied grin she shooed him out of her office; and pulled a fresh parchment out, to begin making sweeping changes to the moribund and corrupt British Magical Ministry as quickly as she could ram the changes through the Wizengamot.

* * *

Snape was exhausted. He had spent the last fifteen hours brewing one of the most complicated potions he had ever brewed alone. The precise stirring and meticulous timing allowed for no rest during the complicated brewing, and any misstep would render the potion completely useless, if not violently explosive. He leaned over toward a small elf as the creature held up a goblet of cold water laced with a strengthening solution for him to drink, before it wiped the beaded sweat off of Snape's forehead with a soft folded flannel. Snape never stopped stirring or counting the motions, even though his arms and fingers were stiffening with the relentless hours of mental concentration and physical exertion.

"Ninety-three, ninety-four, ninety-five" he stopped the counter-clockwise motion and turned the silver stirring ladle in a clockwise motion, never missing the count, "ninety-six, ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred." He stopped the stirring and lifted the ladle, a thick purple liquid dripping back into the rune inscribed silver cauldron. He held his breath and watched. The potion shimmered twice and then a small circle of silver began in the very center. As the tired man watched with growing satisfaction and relief, the circle grew and grew. The silver taking over the dark purple until finally, the cauldron was filled from edge to edge with a glowing silver liquid that shimmered as it reflected the flickering of the torches that lit the basement potions lab.

Feeling for the tall stool behind him with one aching foot, he hooked his toes around a leg and pulled the stool directly behind him before slumping down onto its welcome support. He had completed a potion all by himself that usually required at least two brewers and a couple of fully trained apprentices to complete. A small sigh of satisfaction matched the upturning twitch of his lips as he waved off the fire below the small cauldron, and tiredly levitated it over to the waiting cooling stand.

Tippy came to stand in front of him, waiting respectfully for Master Snape to acknowledge it's presence before speaking. "Master Snape's dinner be ready. Is you wishing it in Master Potter's room or in the dining room?"

Sighing deeply at having to think about anything in his bone aching tiredness, Snape ran a potion splattered hand through his lank sweaty hair before answering. "In Potter's room, I need to check on his condition, and the potion must cool for at least an hour before it can be used."

Tippy nodded and snapped his fingers before bowing to Master Snape, offering to show him the way to the boy's room so the tired wizard wouldn't get lost in the large and unfamiliar mansion.

* * *

Tom Riddle was hunched over a grubby and well used map of Great Britain when a loud gong signaled the unexpected arrival of a portkey into the dank and echoing meeting room. He stood, his evil red eyes glinting with anticipation of the punishment he could deliver to whoever had the unmitigated gall to disturb him without being summoned. His thin and unnaturally mobile tongue licked his thin bloodless lips as a skeletal hand rubbed over the top of his bald, snakelike pate.

"Wormtail, attend to me at onc-c-c-e." He hissed loudly and menacingly. The fat lump in the corner of the map room unfolded to reveal a short, balding little dumpy figure. Noticeably quivering with fear, Pettigrew bowed and stumbled forward to almost fall at his Master's feet in abject terror.

"Yes-s-s, M-m-m-master, your wish is my com-m-mand, Master." The rat sniveled, his voice shaking as he stuttered nervously.

With a look of disgust, Riddle swept from the room, his long dark robe dragging through the accumulated dust and debris of years of neglect. The old Manor house that had once belonged to his muggle father's family was liberally decorated with cobwebs, layers of dust upon dust, and even patches of mold and black mildew where the ancient roof now leaked and the cracked windows no longer withheld the elements. Riddle wouldn't allow a house elf within the estate boundaries, and no Death Eater would deign to actually clean something, so the decrepit Riddle Manor would have fallen down long ago, except for the magic being wielded within it.

Flicking his wand angrily at the door that stood between him and his target, Riddle blasted the carved oak door that had once proudly guarded the old ballroom off of its hinges. It landed askew and cracked, lying to the side on the old moth eaten carpet, a huge cloud of dust marking its resting place, as the evil semi-human being and his cowering sycophant entered the large dirty room.

Sprawled in a mass of legs and arms, Draco Malfoy and Cornelius Fudge lay in the middle of a slowly settling cloud of dust and debris better left unnamed, both coughing and gasping for clean air.

"What is-s-s the meaning of this-s-s-s intrus-s-s-sion?" The snake faced evil wizard hissed menacingly, surprised at the identity of the intruders, but unwilling and even incapable of showing that emotion on his inhuman face.

Draco pushed himself up, using Fudge's ample belly to push up from. He stood, his knees shaking slightly despite his best efforts to appear calm. He bowed low, which looked rather ludicrous considering he was still attired in shapeless, now dust covered blue and white stripped hospital pajamas with no shoes; his hair in wild disarray. "My Lord," his voice cracked as he spoke only to be interrupted by the self titled Lord Voldemort.

"I AM NOT YOUR LORD, YET BOY! What is the meaning of this-s-s?" He demanded once more.

Draco bowed once more, his shoulders shaking in open fear now. "I have brought you Cornelius Fudge, Mas…sir." Draco thought it best to stop talking now and wait, it was always the best move when his father….oh Merlin…my … father….his thoughts wandered to the horrible sight of his father's bloody and lifeless face beneath his own as his breath hitched in realization of what he had done.

As Draco looked up, his pale grey eyes going dead with the shocked realization of what had happened; Voldemort caught his gaze and struck. "Legilimens-s-s!"

Draco went rigid with the agonizing pain, his lips parted in a horrified soundless scream as his mind was brutally raped. The entire afternoon played rapidly through his mind as Voldemort grew more and more agitated and enraged. Memory after memory was examined and thrown aside as Draco felt his mind being ripped open from the inside out. The agony lasted mere minutes but it felt like hours to Draco.

Voldemort turned away and furiously blasted huge chunks of plaster out of the walls, as he raged at the imbecilic actions of the child now quivering in a mindless puddle on the floor. His rage grew as he turned his attention to the few remaining pieces of ornate furniture that still lined the filthy walls; before he repeatedly and methodically blasted them until nothing but small slivers and chunks of wood and rotting red velvet remained, before fixing his evil red gaze upon the still quietly standing Wormtail.

"Put those….things…into cells. I will enjoy myself with them later." He pointed a long gnarled finger at the still slumped and hysterical figure of Cornelius Fudge before pointing his wand at the comatose figure of Draco Malfoy. An evil smile graced the reptilian face as he contemplated various tortures for the doomed Heir of the once proud Malfoy family. He sorted through the memories he had ripped from the teen's mind; his rage growing once more as he looked upon the dead face of Lucius, and the still living Harry Potter being portkeyed to the infirmary.

He swept out of the destroyed old ballroom, his black robes billowing behind him, his raw emotions cracking windows as he passed by them. The few portraits that had still remained fell from the floor, marking his progress back to his chambers. Wormtail looked between the sobbing Minister and the unconscious Malfoy brat and smiled maliciously at the two. Rubbing his hands together in anticipation and glee, he hit the Minister with a weak body bind, only then finding the hysterically sobbing man still had his unused wand in his breast pocket. In short order, the two had adjoining cells deep below the unplottable Manor house, and Pettigrew returned to his Master's quarters, awaiting his orders once more.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was pacing his office, his trademark twinkle completely gone; his anger over the senseless happenings of the afternoon clearly visible as his aura was shimmering in full sight. Something that rarely occurred as Albus preferred to don a kindly grandfather persona; while shielding his full power as he was doing his job as the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, and Poppy Pomfrey were watching him silently as he marched three steps to the fireplace, four steps to the front of the couches they were sitting at, two steps to the corner of his desk, and then back to the fireplace once more. Minerva finally sighed theatrically and snapped, "Come sit down, Albus you're giving us all a sore neck trying to follow your pacing. And it's getting nothing accomplished." Her lips thinned at her boss' seeming lack of focus.

Albus came back to the small sitting area and took the armchair that sat between the two couches. "I cannot find the smallest trace of either Harry or Severus; and none of the elves knows anything about the disappearance. Poppy, do you think Severus has managed to cure Harry? Do you think he is still in danger?"

The school medi-witch lifted both hands in a gesture of helplessness as she answered. "I honestly can't tell you, Albus. If Severus had a full potion's lab at his disposal to discover exactly what the poison was, and then the proper ingredients and facilities necessary for him to brew the proper antidote, perhaps. But without knowing where they are, what facilities are available, I have no way of predicting. You might as well ask Sybil Trelawney for her opinion; it would be just as accurate."

Minerva and Filius couldn't help snorting slightly at that pronouncement before looking grim once more. Dumbledore continued questioning the healer. "If left unchecked, what is the poison doing?"

"That I can tell you, but none of it is good news. The poison slowly destroys the voluntary nervous system. Severus and I were able to stabilize and negate the autonomic nerves, so that Harry's heart, lungs and other organs will continue to function, but anything he has control over will slowly stop working. He will lose the ability to use his legs and arms first as they are furthest from the center of his body. Next will be his ability to speak, and then to swallow or even blink. He will be trapped in his own mind as he slowly starves to death; he would likely go insane before then. And I did not recognize the specific poison so we were only able to slow it down, not negate its effects. Even if Severus manages to find and brew the correct anti-toxin, the damage to Harry's voluntary nervous system will already be extensive. The nerves can be re-grown with a series of potions and physical therapy, but it will not be an overnight cure by any means. I can only hope that Severus found the proper antidote quickly. We must find them quickly, Albus." Her voice grew in intensity as she spoke, her colleagues stunned and silent.

The two witches present had silent tears on their cheeks, while both Filius and Albus had gone whiter and whiter as the healer continued her explanation. Minerva had a pale hand in front of her mouth as she spoke, barely above a whisper. "How can we find them then? Albus, have you tried to scry for them, or tracked their magical signatures, or…" her voice faded down into nothing as each suggestion was met with a nod from the aged Headmaster and a look of deep sorrow.

Filius finally spoke up, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Is there nothing more that we can be doing then, Albus?"

Dumbledore dropped his head into his hands and his shoulders shook as he reluctantly shook his head. The four sat in stunned silence, the sound of their breathing the only sound heard in the circular office until a soft chime pealed from one of the numerous whizzing and whirring little machines that dotted every spare surface.

* * *

Snape held the cold hand of the pale teen in one hand as he watched the sweeping second hand of the muggle watch he wore. Potter's heartbeat was still plodding steadily. It was too slow and sluggish, but it was at least much stronger and the rhythm was steadier than it had been. A strangely silent Dobby perched on the far side of the huge four poster bed, almost afraid to breathe and disturb the wizard that must save his Harry Potter.

"You have done well, Dobby is it?" Snape turned his tired black eyes toward the little creature who nodded enthusiastically at him. "Potter is still stable; the poison is significantly slowed but still present. I will need your assistance in drawing a sample of blood for testing. Come here and hold his arm like this…"he demonstrated and then turned to withdraw a sampling kit form the potions bag he had found downstairs in the potions lab. "Hold his arm steady, he might jerk at the pain but you must hold him steady." Snape silently withdrew a small vial of blood from Potter's elbow before healing the small incision with a well practiced flick of his wand. Leaving instructions to continue watching the comatose boy, Snape swept from the bedroom, heading down to the potions lab with the vial of the boy's blood for testing.

* * *

Harry felt the darkness dimming again and looked around himself in curiosity. He had thoroughly enjoyed the last…dream…vision…memory? Well, whatever it had been, it had been really nice. He seemed to be in the same room as before, but now he was being held in soft and warm arms. He looked up and spotting the glowing halo of red hair glistening in the soft firelight, he realized he was on his mother's lap and that she was rocking him and singing to him. He felt his face light up with a big smile and cuddled down into the wonderful feeling. He could feel his mother's heartbeat and smell a delicate flowery perfume of some kind. He thought it might be apple blossom but he wasn't sure. He turned his head and buried his head into her robes, smelling deeply. 'Yes, it was apple blossoms.' He felt her chuckling at him before she pulled him away and looked directly into his eyes. He felt moisture blur his vision as he felt love flood him as he had never felt before.

Lily looked into her son's eyes, her own brilliant and unusual green reflecting back at her. "Now you aren't supposed to be giggling and enjoying yourself; you, my young man are supposed to be going to sleep. If you want to be awake tonight for your Daddy's birthday party, you must take a nap now. I'm not supposed to know, but I think your idiot of a father is going to try to sneak you up for a fly on his broom while I'm busy cooking dinner. He's been trying for the last three months, but I always manage to catch him at it. If you don't tell him, I'll let him sneak you out and pretend I don't know what he and his Marauder friends are up to." She smiled conspiratorially with her son before pulling his head down onto her shoulder once more; and beginning to rock, she sang softly, "Sleep my child and peace attend thee…."

Harry felt his eyes closing against his will, the wonderful feelings of love and the soft scent of his mother soothing him into the blackness once more.

* * *

Snape was too tired and apprehensive to stalk and swoop, so he just trudged down the long steps to the basement, one hand trailing the handrail in his fatigue. He nodded at the three odd little elves that were silently waiting for him as he entered the spotless potions lab once more. He moved over to the now cool cauldron full of the Acclero potion and sat the little vial of Potter's blood down beside it. A soft noise at his side let him know that Tippy was standing beside him, awaiting his orders. He nodded at the little being, thankful that it was so well trained and willing to help. "I need five medium sized vials with stoppers and an open bowl. I will also need a pipette and a siphon tube." No sooner had he requested the items then they appeared on the table beside him. He carefully placed a single drop of Potter's blood in each vial, then using the pipette and tubing; he measured a precise amount of the silvery potion within each vial. He held his breath as the first vial turned black, and then the second and third ones turned black. His shoulders slumped in relief as the fourth one flared bright blood red and then turned a sickly green. He tested the fifth vial just to be sure, but it turned the black of a negative response just like the first three had.

Snape banished the four useless vials into the sink to be cleaned and concentrated on the one green vial. He took out a quill and looked around for a piece of parchment. A soft tap of his elbow and he turned and accepted the piece being held out to him by one of the elves he didn't yet know the name of. "Thank you…uh…" He stopped and the elf looked at him shyly before saying, "Dinkins, my name be Dinkins, sir." Snape nodded and turned his attention to the blank parchment. He took a pipette and placed five drops of blood around the empty paper. He took out his wand and pointed at the first drop, "Revealo…" he incanted while watching the green potion swirl on the paper and then quiver once, twice and then nothing. He repeated the process with the next drop which had the same reaction. Finally the third droplet swirled and then formed two words in green letters. Snape gave an involuntary shudder as he read 'nervulus veneficium' on the parchment before moving it aside in disgust.

He stepped to a clean work station and began issuing orders to the three elves in a calm and efficient manner, burying his deep feelings of remorse and guilt down into the deepest hell of his own mind. 'How dare Lucius Malfoy allow his imbecilic son access to a deadly and horrific poison like that?' His hands moved in swift and sure motions as he prepared the necessary ingredients and began to brew the antidote; the antidote that only he could produce; the antidote to a poison thought to have no known antidote since he had never admitted to anyone that when he had developed that particular poison for the Dark Lord, he had also developed an antidote to it. Now if he wasn't too late…

* * *

AN: I need your help now. Please let me know if you would like Voldemort to kill Draco for depriving him of Lucius' services, or if you would like Draco to somehow escape after a very rude awakening about his father's Master? Also, should Dumbledore receive a message that Snape and Harry are safe or not? I will let them wonder and worry for a while, I just don't know how long to let them suffer.

Nervulus - nerves

Veneficium – poison, magical poisoning


	5. Chapter 5: The Cure

Nightmares and Daydreams

By Teacherbev

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I am not a multinational bookselling company, nor am I a multi-million dollar movie company, so I don't own anything that you recognize. I am a retired former teacher who likes to twist plots and play with characters, so enjoy.

AN: Thank you for all of your responses to the questions at the end of the last chapter. I was a bit surprised at how vindictive some of you felt about the two. Some wanted leniency for Draco, most however, wanted him punished if not outright killed. Almost no one wanted Fudge to survive, unless it was to be publicly humiliated and the thrown into Azkaban. So here for your, my dear readers, is the next installment.

Chapter 5: The Cure

The Gryffindor Common room was completely still and silent, which was very unusual since almost every Gryffindor was at present sitting somewhere within that common room. After the healed Katie had returned, and Professor McGonagall had made her announcements, the entire house had sat in stunned and silent disbelief. How had Malfoy gotten away with stabbing Harry during a crowded Quidditch match, and where could he possibly be now? And why had no one noticed anything odd about Malfoy during the game?

Ron was sitting, slumped down in the old couch that sat directly in front of the fireplace, his eyes vacant and pained as he wracked his brain for clues to his best friend's whereabouts. He seemed incapable of coherent thought, let alone speech. Hermione sat closely beside him, her eyes shut as she concentrated, certain that she could find a way to find their friend if she just thought hard enough. Ginny Weasley was sitting on the other side of her brother, her head buried into his shoulder, crying softly, shuddering hiccoughs wracking her shoulders every once in a while. Ron's hand was running through her hair in a repetitive motion without even knowing he was doing it.

Fred and George were huddled over an old piece of parchment, searching it over and over in a futile search for some sign of their friend and benefactor, but so far they had seen nothing. Their heads together, they whispered back and forth in their strange abbreviated twin speech that drove everyone around them batty at times.

"Nothing…not a"

"Blasted clue. He's not in…"

"Hogwarts at all."

Fred had a thought and looked up at the trio sitting motionless in front of the fireplace. "Hey, you two…what's the name of that insane elf…"

George's face lit up as he understood what his brother was trying to do. "Yeah, the one that always seems to know where Harry is."

A flicker of hope flashed across Ron's face as he turned and looked over his shoulder at his older brothers. "Do you think maybe Dobby could find him?"

"Yeah, that's it…Dobby…" the two redheads bent over the parchment once more and scanned quickly. "Bollocks!" One of them exclaimed loudly as the other one moaned, "Doesn't show house elves on it!"

Hermione glanced up and looked around at the despondent group. "But that doesn't mean we can't go looking for him, does it." She stood up and wiped a hand across her face wiping away her tears, before looking around with grim determination. "Neville, you take Collin and Dennis and go send a message to Harry with Hedwig." She looked at the rest of the group making decisions as she spoke, a general with a mission. "Fred, George you two go to the kitchens and find Dobby…if he isn't there, ask an elf named Winky if she knows where he is; the two are friends so she might know. Angelina, you take Pavarti and…oh I don't know but take at least two others and go search the Room of Requirement…it doesn't show up on the map. Ron, I need you and Ginny to come with me to ask the Headmaster to send Fawkes with a message. If Hedwig can't find him, perhaps a phoenix can." The others left, their faces set with grim determination to find their missing housemate and friend.

* * *

By the time Snape had finished brewing the antidote, the only thing keeping him on his feet was Pepper-Up potion, and an elf on tucked tightly on either side of him to keep him from falling over. With a final stir and a wave of his wand, he doused the small flame that was keeping the translucent, pearly white liquid at a slow simmer. He allowed the small creatures to lead him over to flop down on a small bed that was situated in a dark corner of the potions lab. "It must cool for exactly 90 minutes before I can administer it to Potter. Wake me….five…minutes...before…" his yawning voice tapered off at the end as he succumbed to exhaustion, secure in the knowledge that the elves would be able to watch both the potion and the boy.

* * *

Harry was getting more familiar with the sensation of being pulled from the unrelenting darkness into a new vision…dream…memory…well, whatever they were he was relishing them heartily, finally having memories of his parents that didn't consist of their last terror filled moments of life.

He opened his eyes, relishing the sensation of clear vision without the cumbersome feel of glasses upon his nose. He put one chubby little fist up and rubbed his eyes before glancing around the room. He thought he was the same age as before, maybe eight or nine months, but he couldn't be sure. He was sitting in a high chair while his father was feeding him something pale brown, and absolutely tasteless. His mother was puttering around a stove, humming to herself as wonderful smells assaulted his nose.

"Come on big boy, eat your porridge and maybe Mummy will let me feed you some of my birthday cake later." James was opening his mouth very wide as he moved the spoon closer to his son's mouth. Harry giggled and then blinked as he felt his magic swirl around inside him. A sharp pushing feeling and his magic pulsed outward and entered the bowl his father was holding in his hand. James looked down, surprised at the feel of magic and swallowed in astonishment. "Um, honey?" He squeaked a little bit as he called out for Lily's attention. "Is Harry supposed to be able to change his porridge into chocolate pudding?"

Lily turned sharply around, almost dropping the saucepan she had been stirring so diligently. "No, most children don't start to show accidental magic until the age of five or six…are you sure you didn't do something?" Her face now showed suspicion rather than shock.

"I swear dear, I was just shoveling in the slop…" He ducked as his wife swung the wooden spoon she was holding at his head.

"Don't call it that. Harry won't want to eat it and then you'll have to show him how yummy it is. Maybe I'll just let you eat his dinner tonight, hmmm?" She raised one eyebrow, teasing her husband.

"Oh, uh, no that will be alright. Look Harry, yummy, yummy." Lily had flicked her wand, turning the bowl of rich chocolate pudding back into brownish paste.

James filled the spoon once more, and raised it towards Harry opening his own mouth automatically as he did. He leaned in and stage whispered conspiratorially toward the small child. "Finish this up and then me and Padfoot are going out to…uh, de-gnome the garden and you can come and watch." He winked theatrically as Harry giggled, a thin stream of porridge running down his chin.

James managed to get his son to eat some more of the now cold cereal before giving up and cleaning him up. He grabbed Harry under both arms and pulled him straight up and out of the high chair with a practiced movement, before swinging Harry around and plopping him on his shoulders. With his large hands still securing the infant to his neck, he bounced up and down making silly horse noises while he danced and galloped around the kitchen. Harry giggled so hard he had drool running down his chin and into his father's hair, but the man didn't seem to mind. James stopped beside the stove to plant a loving kiss on his wife's cheek before galloping toward the back door, Harry giggling and drooling, his hands clenched tightly in his father's hair.

Lily laughed at her husband's antics before shooing the two Potter men outside. She shut the door and turned with a knowing smirk. "Sure you're de-gnoming the garden with Padfoot…sure you are." With a sigh at the thought of her husband refusing to grow up, she turned back to cooking his favorites for his birthday party.

* * *

Draco was afraid to open his eyes. He was slumped down on hard, cold and wet stone and every muscle, nerve and joint in his body was screaming in agony. His mind was still cloudy and he wasn't sure where he was, but he was sure it wasn't anywhere pleasant. As his mind cleared, and his memories flooded back with a heart stopping jolt, tears began flowing down the pale, bruised cheeks. The sound of a cell door being scrapped across unforgiving stone sounding like fingernails on a blackboard made his body quiver, as the thought that maybe his father had been dreadfully wrong about the honor and nobility of being a follower of the Dark Lord crossed his mind. As he was dragged upright by two masked and cloaked figures, his arms almost dislocating with their rough treatment, he knew without a single doubt that his father had been deadly wrong.

* * *

"No…go…away…" Snape's hand waved ineffectively in the air; as he tried to keep whoever it was that was bothering him, from waking him up fully.

"Master Snape sir, it is being time to wake up. You is telling Tippy to wakes you for the potion is done." A squeaky high pitched voice was finally piercing the fog that clung to Snape's mind as he woke up.

Still exhausted, Snape forced himself to sit up on the edge of the bed, his head hanging listlessly in his cupped hands; his shoulders slumped as he struggled to gather enough energy to stand up. A small golden goblet full of steaming Pepper Up potion was wafted in invitation under his nose. He lifted his head, dropping one tired arm as he thankfully took the small goblet with his other hand and tipped the foul concoction down his throat in a single chugging gulp. He shook his head, the steam of the potion streaming out of his ears, making his long, greasy black hair stand out almost perpendicularly to his head. He gave an involuntary shudder as the tiredness and lack of enough sleep was forcibly removed from his body, and a fresh rush of artificial energy replaced it.

Tippy was still standing patiently beside the rumpled man, a large mug that steamed invitingly in one knobby hand and a small plate covered with appetizing sandwiches held in the other. Snape took both offerings with almost silent thanks as he managed to stand up, his legs only wobbling once or twice. He took a large bite of a sandwich, vaguely registering that it was his favorite grilled chicken breast with bacon, provolone cheese and just a touch of Dijon honey mustard as he walked over to the now cold cauldron.

The small gold cauldron was finely wrought, a circle of precise runes engraving in a circle around the top, the whole thing barely holding the pint of precious antidote. Snape handed the plate of sandwiches to Tippy, took a drink of barely cool enough tea, and summoned a pair of large potion bottles from a nearby shelf. The golden ladle in his hands, he measured precisely half of the shimmering liquid into each of the bottles before sealing them with a plug of pharmaceutical grade wax. He cast a cushioning charm on his sleep rumpled robes before he placed one bottle in each of the two large pockets. With a nod of satisfaction, he swept out of the room, Tippy following him to press another sandwich into the rapidly striding wizard's hand.

* * *

Minister Bones flopped down into the comfortable leather chair behind the massive dark mahogany desk in her new office and swore softly under her breath. Her monocle hung down her chest on its twisted and slightly frayed red ribbon, her face tired and her shoulders slumped in exhaustion. She finally managed to dredge up enough energy to listen to the report of the two equally tired Aurors now sitting in front of her.

"I'm sorry Amelia, but we've found no trace of Harry Potter or Severus Snape. And none of the Hogwarts house elves seem to be missing, or at least no one seems to have found one missing. We can only hope that they are somewhere safe. I don't think Voldemort has them, the portraits are adamant about the elf muttering about 'saving Potter', and we all know the phobia that Voldemort has against house elves from before." Kingsley ran a tired hand over his shaved head in frustration.

Amelia and Kingsley looked at the other Auror expectantly. "All of our investigation seems to point to the Malfoy brat working alone or in conjunction with just his father. None of his dorm mates admit to any knowledge, nor does a truth spell find anything suspicious. We found nothing in Malfoy's dorm room, but we did find quite a few surprises at Malfoy Manor. Old Mad Eye was able to find a few hidden rooms by discovering blank areas that he couldn't see in. Any space he couldn't see into, we set a couple of ward breakers loose on. We found a maze of tunnels under a trap door in the drawing room. We're still cataloging the dark objects we found, there's some well used torture rooms, shelves upon shelves of contraband books and potions, and a fully stocked potions lab with every substance banned by the Ministry in full supply." The red clad Auror had a malevolent look of glee in his eyes as he reported.

Madame Bones leaned forward, her elbows on her desk. "Were you able to identify the poison used?"

Alastor Gumboil sat up straighter and answered. "We found over twenty different poisons stored there, most of them used only for torture and most of them fatal. And the only one that wasn't a full bottle was labeled '_nervulus veneficium'._"

The Minister looked at her friend Shack for clarification; after all she wasn't familiar with every known poison. The dark man had blanched, his warm chocolate colored skin loosing its coloring into a pasty shade. "I won't sugar coat it, Amelia, that's a bad one and there's no known cure. The poor boy will lose all control over his own body as he either starves to death or chokes to death on his own saliva. I saw a poor bloke die from it in the last war and it took forever. He was trapped in his own perfectly clear mind as his body failed inch by inch. As he finally lost control of his speech, he was begging us to kill him. I almost hope that Harry goes mad before that happens …if that is indeed the poison Draco used."

The three sat perfectly quiet in the overly decorated office, each lost in their own thoughts as they contemplated the horrors that awaited young Harry.

* * *

Severus managed to climb the several long flights of stairs up to Potter's room without falling over only by using the massive railings to pull himself upward with each step. He trudged into the huge bedroom, oblivious to his surroundings, his total focus on reaching the boy and administering the antidote to him. He might hate the boy, but he wouldn't wish the effects of this particular poison on anyone.

He sank down gratefully on the comfortable mattress beside the limp and still body of Potter and motioned for the elf Dobby to lift up the boy's shoulders. He used a practiced finger to open the boy's mouth and dribbled a good half of the potion from one of the large flasks into the slack mouth. He used his other hand to stroke Potter's throat, causing involuntary swallows, keeping the child from choking, or the potion sliding down the wrong pipe into his lungs by accident.

Snape capped the remaining antidote and slipped it onto the nightstand beside the pair of folded glasses that already lay there. He ran a tired hand through his long, greasy hair before checking Potter's pulse. He almost held his breath as he watched the boy's chest intently, subconsciously counting the shallow and erratic breaths. He blew a long breath out through his pursed lips as the chest he was watching expanded more and more with each breath, Potter's breathing easing and becoming stronger and more regular with each passing moment. The pulse under his fingers strengthened and slowed the beat more regular and stronger as the antidote took effect.

Snape's face lost its furrowed brow and deep scowl as it became more apparent that he had administered the precious potion in time to save the brats miserable life once more. Now he would just have to wait for him to regain consciousness to evaluate just how much damage had been done to his voluntary nervous system while the poison ran unchecked through his body.

The room dimmed and swam as the Pepper Up potion wore off and Snape succumbed to exhaustion. Snape never noticed when Tippy caught his falling body before he landed face down into the plush dark blue carpet.

* * *

Cornelius Fudge was not having a good day, in fact he strongly suspected he would never have another good day in his life, however short a time that might be. The child of one of his most lucrative supporters had just murdered that same supporter, even if it had obviously been an accident. No one believed the moronic and pathetic Malfoy child had intended to murder his own father, but then again, no one could deny the brat had intended to murder Harry bloody Potter. And then the brat had the unmitigated gall to kidnap him, Cornelius Fudge! And if that wasn't enough trouble, the prat had portkeyed them directly to land unceremoniously at the feet of the inhuman monster that Fudge had spent the last four months claiming didn't exist.

So Fudge now sat, curled up in a damp and freezing cell, his only companion a dreadfully large spider sitting and watching him from its dew bespattered web in the corner. As Fudge contemplated his immanent demise, in both a physical and political sense, he did the only thing any sane man could do in his place. He cried, he screamed about the injustice of his fate and then he slowly and quietly went insane. His eyes went as vapid as his expression, insane giggles and disjointed words that made no sense interspersed in random order as his mind transported his sanity into his own little world, never to interact with reality again.

* * *

James was standing in the backyard of the small summer cottage in Godric's Hollow that he and his wife were living at. Lily had been very uncomfortable staying at the magnificent but very overwhelming Potter Manor, so James had contentedly moved with his wife and small son to the much more Muggle like cottage. If Lily was happy pretending they were living in a small and cozy Muggle cottage, he was perfectly content to allow her that link to her upbringing.

So he stood, happy and content, leaning against a sturdy oak tree, watching as his best friend Sirius Black made slow and easy circles about five feet off of the ground, his squealing and giggling eight month old son held tightly against his chest. He looked around the comfortable yard and glanced at the kitchen window to make sure his lovely Lily was still busy making him a glorious birthday dinner.

He had turned twenty-two today, his loving wife was not only beautiful but the smartest witch he had ever met, his other two best friends would be arriving soon for a lovely dinner and life could not be any better. A smile of deep contentment lit up his face, his hazel eyes twinkling merrily as he turned back to watch Sirius and Harry.

Meanwhile Harry was taking advantage of his years as the youngest Seeker in a century to get the most out of the old broom. He loved the feeling of being held close in Sirius' arms as he took control of the broom and soared. Pushing his magic outward, he forced the broom up and faster as he let loose with a squeal of happiness to be flying once more.

A look of stunned shock removed any traces of the contentment James had just been feeling. He flicked his wrist, catching his wand with the reflexes born from years of practice and pointed it at Sirius as he began to yell, forgetting that Lily might hear him. "Sirius Orion Black, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing? Get the hell down here right now or so help me I will blast your pink dangly bits completely off!"

Sirius had the broomstick clenched tightly with one hand and both knees, his other arm encircling the still giggling form of his godson, Harry who he had clutched tightly against his own chest. His face was white; his lips completely bloodless as the broom made wild gyrations, and changed directions in rapid maneuvers a good twenty feet off the ground. Sirius managed to yell back, "I'm not doing it James! Tell your _son_ to stop overriding the safeties on this broom before we both fall off!" He turned his full attention back to forcing his own magic into the broom to override the child.

The broom shot straight up, going faster than a Cleansweep Four was ever meant to travel, the squeals of Harry overriding any further speech from a terrified Sirius and panicking James. The yells of the men and the sound of her hyper child drew Lily to the window. Her face blanched as she took in the scene in one hurried glance. The backdoor slammed against the side of the cottage as she stormed out, her wand at the ready and her voice filling the backyard with her ire. "Sirius Black you get your mangy butt down here this instant. If you ever endanger my son again…." She was just getting started when James managed to hit the broom with an 'Impedimenta' jinx and slowed the rapidly tumbling broom down enough for Sirius to regain control.

At the same moment, Lily used her wand to pull the broom back down to the grassy lawn and ran over to grab the still cooing baby from Sirius' arms. She took one look at the man's bloodless face and overly wide eyes and turned to her husband, wordlessly demanding an explanation for what had just occurred by raising just one eyebrow.

James wrapped his arms around both his wife and son, and pulled them both close. The trembling in his arms let Lily know he was just as shook up as she was, and the way that Sirius had slumped down to the ground as if his legs wouldn't hold his own weight up let her know that he wasn't the culprit either. She slumped with the sudden realization that the eight month old she had clutched tightly in her arms had been the instigator.

James helped her over to the redwood picnic table that stood beneath a towering beech tree and gently pushed her down on one of the benches. When she was sitting, a giggling and happily bouncing Harry pulling at her auburn hair, he turned and helped a still shaky Sirius over to sit beside Lily.

"It was…Harry? Harry…but that's not…possible…" Lily was looking up at James, her face still white and her eyes wide with astonishment. "No way, James…no baby could do that!"

James rubbed a weary hand across his chin as he looked down with an equal amount of wonder. "Well, he did make all of those braids and bows last week on Paddy….and then this morning with his cereal… and you know really strange things have been happening lately" He slumped down on the bench on the other side of the table as both Sirius and Lily turned around and swung their legs to sit and lean forward on the table. Lily sat Harry on the table, a strong arm holding him in place so that he couldn't wander off the edge.

Sirius looked between the two gobsmacked parents. "So what do we do about him? I mean, how can we keep his magic under control until he's old enough to control it without killing us on a broom again?"

Lily looked thoughtful for a moment. "I know I read something at work that I might be able to adapt to…I don't know..._block_ his magic for a while until he gets older you know." Lily was a charm's mistress for the Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry for Magic so James nodded his head in agreement. Harry looked from his father's face to his mother's face in confusion. Had he just heard them talking about 'blocking his magic' somehow? As he faded into the familiar blackness once more, he wondered if they had managed to block his magic and if anyone had ever known to unblock it.

* * *

Severus Snape was not a morning person and was rarely very coherent before his first cup of very strong English Breakfast tea, and sometimes not until after the second or even third cup. He much preferred the silence and solitude of the night, patrolling for out of bound students, brewing experimental potions in the dead of the night, even reading until well into the early hours of the morning. And he particularly hated mornings when he woke up with the taste of his own potions cloying heavily to his tongue. So he could be forgiven if he was a little disoriented after the events of the last two days.

Snape was gradually aware he was sleeping on a very soft and comfortable bed, much more comfortable than his own somewhat austere Hogwarts four poster. The next sensation he recognized was the insistence of both his bladder and his stomach that it was time to wake up. But the feeling of a very warm, very alive and breathing body lying very close to his own made his eyes snap open with instant awareness.

He was only peripherally aware that the bed he was in had dark blue outer curtains and soft sky blue inner drapes before he had his head turned and his eyes drilling into the, thankfully, still unconscious face of one Harry Potter. He jerked upright, his legs swinging without conscious thought over the side of the bed as he slid out of the warm covers and stood, aghast at where he found himself.

A soft pop turned his attention away from his most hated student and towards the now bowing little house elf. "Tippy is wondering if Master Snape is wanting his breakfast here in Master Potter's room or down in the dining room, sir." Tippy looked hopefully at his Master still lying motionless in the bed, hoping Master Snape would tell him how the young wizard was faring, though he would never dare to actually ask for information from a wizard without a direct invitation.

"Ah, yes, uh…up here Tippy. I will need to monitor Potter for a few more hours before I can begin administering nerve growth potions. He must regain consciousness for me to evaluate how strong they will need to be brewed. Hopefully Madame Pomfrey and I were able to slow the poison down enough that he will recover fully and quickly. Although knowing Mr. Potter, as well as I do, he will probably fight me every step of the way." He snarled down at the brat, daring him to wake up and show his famous cheeky insolence.

He turned on his heel and stalked across the spacious room, intent upon the bathroom he could glimpse through an open door. Tippy took a moment to gather clean robes from the fully stocked wardrobe and using a pop of magic, banished them into the room with the grumpy wizard.

Tippy walked over and looked down at his young master. He brushed the unruly black hair off of the boy's forehead and looked down with great fondness. "You's needs to be waking up soon, Master Harry…we's has been missing our master for too long." With a sigh and a small smile, Tippy disappeared to make a most glorious breakfast for his beloved Mistress Lily's brother.

* * *

AN: Thank you for being patient with me while I struggled with this chapter. I just couldn't get into the mood to type very much. But have a Happy New Year and enjoy. 


	6. Chapter 6: Discoveries

Nightmares and Daydreams

By Teacherbev

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I am not a multinational bookselling company, nor am I a multi-million dollar movie company, so I don't own anything that you recognize. I am a retired former teacher who likes to twist plots and play with characters, so enjoy.

AN: Sorry this has taken me so long to update but with starting school and waiting for my new laptop to be built and shipped, I haven't had much free time. Hope my schedule settles down so that I can get back on a regular schedule soon.

Chapter 6: Discoveries

Hermione, Ron and Ginny ran all the way down the stairs from the Gryffindor tower and across the castle to the stone gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office and private quarters. As they leaned over, gasping to catch their breaths, the trio yelled out random candy names, hoping to guess the eccentric wizard's password.

"Lemon drops…treacle tarts…Chocolate Frogs…" Ron managed to gasp out.

Ginny added, "Blood pops…Cockroach Clusters…Sugar Quills…" She wracked her brain for more candy names.

Hermione looked askance at some of the things Ginny was guessing but added her own guesses. "Bertie Botts…Droobles Best Blowing Gum…oh…just let us in you bloody stone beast!" She hit the stone with both fists, almost screaming in her frustration.

Much to the trio's surprise, the gargoyle slid aside and the staircase started to turn upwards. The three wasted no time in climbing, and soon reached the massive wooden door to Dumbledore's office. Before anyone could knock, the sound of a very tired Dumbledore invited them to enter.

All three teenagers started to explain their mission at once before being shushed by their Head of House, whom they had been in too much of a hurry to even notice as they ran into the circular room.

"Hush now, just one of you talking at a time. Miss Granger, why don't you begin?" Professor McGonagall suggested as she pushed both hands down in a shushing motion.

Hermione looked for support to Ron and then Ginny. At their nods, she spoke up, shyly at first but then more comfortably as she explained. "We, that is… all of the Gryffindors, decided to help find Harry…and Professor Snape." She added, ignoring Ron's snort of disgust, "So Colin and Neville and Dennis are sending Hedwig to try and find Harry. The twins have gone down to the kitchens to see if Dobby or Winky can find him, and Angelina is searching the Room of Requirement for him. I, that is… we… were wondering if you could send a message to them with Fawkes, I mean, if Hedwig can't find Harry, maybe Fawkes…" Her voice trailed off, as Dumbledore threw open a desk drawer and snatched out a piece of parchment and grabbed a self inking quill from the stand that stood ready on his desk. He scribbled a brief message before going over to stand beside Fawkes' stand, and running a gnarled hand down the phoenix's bright crimson plumage, he explained his mission to his familiar.

"Fawkes, can you find Severus for me? I know you are smart enough to find them wherever they have been taken. I am counting on you. Such a strong and beautiful bird like you should have no problem." He cooed at the preening phoenix. Fawkes looked around the room with a look that told the group, 'of course I can, after all I am a phoenix, not a mere mortal like you!' He snatched the hastily folded parchment out of Dumbledore's hand with a sharp clawed foot; a flash of gold and red flames later and he was gone.

Dumbledore slumped down behind his desk once more, his face having lost some of its tiredness, though he still looked exhausted and old, as he turned to the three still standing before him. His words reflected the pride that was clearly showing on the usually stern face of the Gryffindor Head of House. "Excellent ideas, all of them…shall I say…ten points each for your wonderful ideas. Now, you should return to your common room to wait for any answers. I will be sure to send word to you if we hear anything and be sure to return here if you find out anything significant. The password is 'Lemon Pudding' for the week."

McGonagall told each of her little lions how proud she was of them all, as she shooed them out of Dumbledore's office and down the stairs to the corridor, before she turned and headed back up to wait with the Headmaster for any news.

* * *

The Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, sat in his loud and now filthy lime green robes, his badge of office hanging around his neck, the ostentatious gold ribbon now raveled and stained, the large round medallion boasting a wide gouge that marred the face, on the cold and filthy stone floor of his cell and watched the huge spider in the corner. His slack face grew solemn as if he was trying to dredge up some very important bit of information from deep within his tired brain. He smiled suddenly as the information popped into his consciousness. He pulled his hands out of the sleeves of his robes where he had been trying vainly to warm them, and put his hands together. With his index finger touching the thumb from the other hand, he carefully moved them in a rhythmic pattern. Finger to thumb, finger to thumb, over and over. He started humming softly and then louder, finally singing the simple song over and over.

"Itsy, bitsy spider, crawled up the water spout…." At the sound of the Minister for Magic singing muggle nursery rhymes, the hooded and masked guard standing outside of his cell door smirked, and then left his post to go and inform his Master of this newest revelation.

* * *

Snape had relished every bite of succulent ham, mushroom and Gouda cheese omelet with the perfectly grilled tomatoes that Tippy had brought to him as he sat in a very comfortable lounge chair and watched the steady breathing of Harry Potter. His stomach pleasantly full, the sour potions master contemplated the still form lying so helplessly on the huge bed. He had never actually taken the time to contemplate the boy closely, but now he had nothing better to do, so he studied the child that lay so helpless and innocent looking.

His hands steepled together, Snape absentmindedly rubbed his chin, back and forth as he stared, so deep in thought he was barely blinking. 'He really doesn't act like his father if I am being truthful.' He thought back over every encounter they had had, beginning with his hateful comments in the child's very first potions class. With the precision born of years of dissecting and evaluating potions and ingredient research, he dissected his relationship with the teen. He took note of the small, almost skeletal stature and thought about the fine crisscrossing of old and faded scars he had found last night when he was cleaning him up. Some of the scars he had found, he knew were from the idiots various exploits, but many more of them fit nothing that was known for sure. And the more he evaluated and analyzed, the more Snape came to a very uncomfortable and illuminating conclusion.

His encounters with the prat, Draco Malfoy, were invariably instigated by Draco himself and only escalated when the aristocratic and arrogant Slytherin cornered the Gryffindor, leaving Potter no avenue to escape or the fool was misguidedly protecting his friends. And every instance in class, he, himself had been the aggressive party. He thought back to the stance of the child he had always thought was his arrogance and ego showing, and found another startling explanation for the mannerisms Potter displayed. Potter wasn't arrogant or a bully, he stood with false bravado to hide his total lack of self esteem and self worth, too embarrassed and ashamed to allow anyone to find out.

Snape ran his long fingers through his hair as he came to the conclusion that he really knew absolutely nothing about the boy who had been his student for the last four years. If his suspicions were correct, Potter had been badly abused for all of his life and was just as ashamed and adamant that no one find out as Snape had been about his own treatment by his father. Snape wracked his brain, trying desperately to find any instance to disprove his most repulsive conclusion but he could find nothing. Potter had no altercations with any other house, he tried to fade into the shadows, he flinched if touched without being prepared, and his health was atrocious according to both Poppy Pomfrey and Minerva McGonagall, particularly when returning from a stay with his relatives. Come to think of it, he remembered that Potter never went home if he was not forced to go; in fact he could recall several instances of Potter trying to convince Hagrid to keep him on over the summer holidays as an unpaid helper of some sort.

As he contemplated ways to prove or disprove his conclusions without further traumatizing the gravely injured boy, Potter moaned and his eyelids twitched. Snape stood suddenly, carefully picking up the rail thin wrist to check the much stronger pulse before gently setting down on the edge of the big bed, to wait patiently for the boy to regain consciousness.

* * *

The trio sitting in front of the now almost cold embers of the fire in the Gryffindor Common room looked up suddenly at the sound of the portrait hole being opened. The looks of hope quickly faded as Angelina and Pavarti entered, their own shoulders slumped and dejected at finding nothing on their search of the Room of Requirement. The two girls joined the morose students that were slumped in various postures on every piece of well worn furniture and all over the usually comfortable pillows and rugs scattered about the large room.

When the portrait hole opened almost fifteen minutes later, the twins climbed through and moved swiftly over to stand in front of the couch that held Ron, Hermione and Ginny slumped tiredly together.

George flopped dejectedly down into the creaky old armchair that sat angled beside the long couch as Fred sat down beside him on the well worn fabric covered arm, his hand on his brother's shoulder in support. The two had a puzzled look and deep frowns on their usually cheerful faces as they made their report.

The two were so intent upon the disappearance and subsequent poor health of their friend that they even forgot to speak together.

"We asked about Dobby but no one had seen him since him during the match. And then we remembered to ask about Winky." Fred started the tale.

"Yeah, and an elf went to go fetch her from beside the fire where she was sitting when she got this look on her face…I can't quite describe it…I don't know…like she was listening to a voice inside her head or something…" George looked at his twin for confirmation and Fred just nodded in agreement with his brother's assessment.

"We started toward her; and then she … just stood up and said, 'Dobby calls, Winky must go' before she disappeared with a loud pop. None of the other elves know anything about it, though several of them admitted that Dobby had been very happy lately and disappears whenever he is done with his chores." George just nodded as Fred finished their report.

Hermione looked very thoughtful before telling the two seventh years that they should go and tell the Headmaster what they had found out. She whispered the password to the two lanky redheads before they left the Common room intent upon informing the Headmaster of their findings. As they reached the back of the Fat Lady's portrait, it swung outward and Colin, Dennis and Neville hurried in. Neville had Hedwig perched on one arm and he was being very careful not to jostle the obviously distressed owl. Mindful of her sharp talons, he reached his arm out toward Ginny who had stood up and offered her arm to Harry's familiar. Neville let out a deep sigh of relief as Hedwig hopped from his arm and climbed up to Ginny's shoulder where she started preening the girls long red hair through her beak, making soft sounds of obvious distress.

Colin offered up, "Nothing, she just flew around for a little bit before she returned to the owlery. Then she tried to bite me and Dennis before she finally settled down enough for Neville to carry her here. She only calmed down when he told her we were coming here and that we were looking for Harry too. She's one smart bird, she is." He sounded rather impressed with the Snowy Owl as he moved over to flop down on a huge floor pillow beside his brother.

George turned back to the group and said over his shoulder, "We'll let Dumbledore know about Hedwig, too. No use both groups going. I sure hope Fawkes manages to find them." As a soft murmur of agreement spread through the unnaturally quiet Gryffindors, the two climbed through the entrance and disappeared from view down the stone corridor.

* * *

Harry woke up in the now familiar cottage and looked around. He noticed he was now a little bit older and his arms and legs worked much better. He stood up in his crib and, somehow knowing that he could do it, he climbed gingerly over the rail and walked out of his bedroom, his legs only wobbling every once in a while. He could hear his parents talking quietly, the door to their bedroom slightly open and a spill of bright yellow light illuminated the dark hallway enough for the toddler to make his way silently down it. He stood just outside the rectangle of electric light and listened, intent on his parents' conversation as they both sounded upset and he didn't want to disturb them. Plus he had to admit to himself, he was awfully curious about whatever had them so upset.

"Shh, you'll wake Harry if you don't keep your voice down." His Mum was whispering, but it was still loud enough for Harry to understand every word from his hiding place in the shadows.

Harry heard the bed squeak and though his father had now sat down next to his mother. The soft and rhythmic sound of a hand running up and down on a silky fabric sounded like either his father was rubbing his mothers back, or his mother was comforting his father; either way, the firm proof of his parents love for each other made his chest tighten in an unfamiliar but very pleasant wash of warmth.

"I just don't know how we are going to keep him safe, James. Dumbledore says the prophecy could only apply to him or Little Neville. Oh James, is it wrong of me to hope its Neville and not Harry?" Her voice hitched with emotion as she swallowed tears.

"Hush, Lils, I'm sure every parent would feel that way when told their eleven month old baby is the one prophesized to vanquish the evilest wizard of the last century. How could anyone not want it to be someone else's child? I don't want it to be him either, but just think about that prophecy. '_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies'_

_Harry was stunned, Dumbledore obviously knew about the prophecy; after all he had been the one to tell his parents about it. Why hadn't the Headmaster told Harry himself? Why wasn't he being trained to fight the evil wizard if it was up to him?_

Harry stood in the dark hallway, totally unaware of the silent tears running down his cheeks as he tried to process the information about exactly why his parent's had decided for them to go into hiding. Voldemort must know too, if this was the reason that he had targeted Harry and his family. Voldemort telling his mother to step aside that he heard when the Dementors got too close now made sense, in light of the prophecy. Why hadn't Dumbledore told him? Was he afraid that Harry wouldn't be able to kill the red eyed bastard? And what was that power the dark lord knew not? Why were there so many secrets surrounding him that he had a right to know about?

As he stood silently in the hallway outside his parents' bedroom, Harry felt the familiar tug of blackness overcome him once more and he gratefully slid into the peace of oblivion once more.

* * *

Snape had given up on watching the boy as he tried to figure out the puzzle that was Harry Potter, and had Tippy bring him a book from the extensive Potter library on healing potions. He had found a couple of potions he was not familiar with that might be useful depending upon how badly damaged the boy's nervous system was. He looked at the front of the book and sighed, no wonder he wasn't familiar with the potions listed, the book was almost four hundred years old, for Merlin's sake! He settled back into the lounge chair and immersed himself in the fascinating world of forgotten medicinal potions once more.

* * *

Fred and George had dutifully reported their lack of success to the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall and were tiredly trudging back to the Gryffindor tower when they were set upon by a small first year Slytherin student. She motioned at the twins to follow her and led them into an unused classroom before shutting the door firmly behind them.

"You two just came from the Headmaster's didn't you?" The little blond girl was nervously twisting her Slytherin tie in her sweaty hands as she looked up at the two tall redheads.

"Yeah, why?"

"I have some information, but I can't be seen talking to the Headmaster. I thought that…well…that you two could tell him. No one would care if you are seen." The girl was now looking down at the floor, refusing to look the Gryffindors in the eyes. "I don't want to follow the Dark Lord like my Mum and Dad but I wouldn't be safe in my house if they knew I had talked to Dumbledore about Potter and Snape."

Fred knelt down so that he was at eye level with the nervous child, and lifted her face with a gentle hand under her chin so that he was looking directly at her. "Just tell us what you can, we won't rat you out." He smiled, his eyes lighting up with mischief. "Me and my brother are great at keeping secrets after all."

She gave the older boy a shy smile and nodded her head as if she had made an important decision. "All right, I think I can trust you not to tell anyone about me. I heard my Dad telling my Mum that the Dark Lord knows that Professor Snape is a spy and is planning on letting the others have 'fun' with him at the next meeting. Dad hates Snape and he was telling Mum what he wanted to do to him and it made me want to puke. I mean, Professor Snape isn't the nicest man, but no one deserves what my Dad wants to do to him." She gave an involuntary shudder and a few tears glistened at the corner of her eyes. Fred leaned forward and pulled the trembling girl into an embrace, just holding her while she got her emotions under control once more.

George was standing to one side and he laid a warm hand on her back, patting her gently as he had done thousands of times for his little sister. "You just leave it to us, we'll be sure to tell Dumbledore and he can tell the Professor. Dumbledore can keep him safe, I know it."

The girl wiped her eyes with a small fist and lifted her head off of Fred's chest. She took a deep breath and blew it out before speaking once more. "I was on my way into the Infirmary for a stomach settling potion this afternoon, my stomach keeps cramping up and I feel sick every time I think about my Mum and Dad doing such things to anyone, I don't' care if they are Muggles, they're still people. But anyway, I saw this house elf grab Professor Snape and Potter and then just disappear with them. He was a really strange elf too; he had on really bright socks and about ten knit hats on his head."

Fred and George beamed at the child's information. George spoke up as he was still rubbing her back. "That would be Harry's friend Dobby that took them then. He won't hurt them, after all Harry rescued him from the Malfoy's."

The girl pulled away from the two Weasley boys and stood up, straightening her robes as she walked toward the door. As she slipped through the now open classroom door, she spoke over her shoulder. "Thank you…can I come to you if I need to?" At the identical nods, she smiled shyly and disappeared into the shadows, blending into the dark night, her soft footfalls the only proof that she had existed.

George looked excitedly at Fred and asked, "Back to the Headmaster's office, Gred?"

With their mood elevated the two pranksters set off down the dark corridor to Dumbledore's office once more.

* * *

Harry was waking up and he really didn't want to. He was enjoying his …visions …dreams …memories …he didn't know exactly what to call them, but he knew he didn't want them to stop. He groaned as he tried to open his eyes and found them glued shut with dried gunk. He tried to lift his hand to rub his eyes but found he couldn't move it. He managed to open his mouth and groaned louder, hoping Madame Pomfrey would come soon and release him from the body bind. But why would she put him in a body bind?

He heard a familiar voice that sounded very close to his head, but he couldn't process the sounds into words yet, they were just random but somehow soothing sounds. A deep and smooth baritone voice just kept repeating the same nonsense syllables over and over at him. As the thick fog in his brain thinned, he began to make sense of the sounds. "Po…you need …wake…Pot…wake…You can…it…just… your eyes…" He groaned again and felt his shoulders lifted up and a soft pillow stuffed behind him to hold him up.

Harry took a deep breath; he was much more comfortable than he had been lying flat on the soft bed. He gave up trying to open his eyes and just listened to the persistent voice.

"Come on Potter…wake up now…you can do it." Ah it finally was beginning to make sense. Harry tried once more to open his sleep encrusted eyes but only managed a small crack of light that made him groan rather piteously once more. He heard a soft chuckle from beside his head and then the feeling of a warm and wet flannel removing the gunk from his eyelashes.

When the flannel was removed a minute or so later, Harry opened his eyes to find…SNAPE… sitting beside him, his big hooked nose only inches from Harry's own! With a gasp, Harry tried to flinch away from the evil git, but he only managed to tilt himself off of the stacked pillows and he quickly found himself heading face first for the floor and unable to stop himself.

Harry let out a sigh of relief as strong arms caught him before he fell completely off the side of the bed and gently lifted him up and onto the soft pillows once more. Harry was confused now…why was Snape taking care of him…and where were they? This certainly wasn't anywhere he knew. Harry tried to open his mouth and speak, but only a soft muffled noise came out. "Wh…wh... we?" was the best he managed even after several tries. His tongue felt three sizes too big to fit in his mouth, and he couldn't seem to do much more than blink and breathe by himself. He remembered Malfoy stabbing his leg and then someone yelling something about 'poison' but after that it was all a blur.

Snape held up Harry's shoulders and dribbled a tiny bit of cold water into the boy's mouth, unsure if Harry would be able to swallow voluntarily at all. It seems the poison had inflicted much more damage than he had hoped, but at least the teen was now awake and he seemed to be lucid, at least his eyes held awareness of who Snape was and that he didn't recognize where they were.

Thankfully Harry seemed to be able to swallow all right, though Snape was careful not to give him too much water at one time. He laid the boy's head back on the pillows and straightened him out, pulling the warm covers up to his chin and tucking him in tightly so that the boy wouldn't fall out of the bed again.

Snape ran a hand though his lanky hair, gathering his thoughts on how he could explain their current situation without sending the boy into too much panic. He sighed and shut his eyes, and then taking a deep breath, he began to explain. "Potter, do you remember the Quidditch game? Don't try to speak or even nod your head, just blink once for yes and twice for no." Harry deliberately blinked once. "Good. Malfoy had a knife taped to the front of his broomstick and he managed to slice your leg open with it." Harry deliberately blinked once more.

Snape sighed, the boy did remember what had happened; that would make his recovery more certain. "It was painted with a deadly poison, one that destroys the nerves. Madame Pomfrey and I were able to slow the poison down and then I brewed the antidote, but your voluntary nervous system is badly damaged. Did you have enough Muggle science classes to understand what those are?" Potter blinked yes once more, understanding showing in his eyes. As he forgot that this condition might not be as permanent as it would be in the Muggle world, his breathing started to speed up and became shallower and shallower as he unsuccessfully fought down his rising and overwhelming sense of panic and dread.

Snape reached a hand out and rubbed the thin chest in a soothing pattern, "Concentrate on my hand, Potter. You need to slow down your breathing before you hyperventilate. Breathe in as I stroke up and out as I stroke down. That's it...slower … slower… good. Do you want me to continue?" His voice was soft and soothing as he used his melodic and well trained voice to send calm and peacefulness to the distraught teen as he could manage.

Harry felt the panic leaving his body as he concentrated on the feel of the warm hand stroking up and down his chest in an even and comforting rhythm. He wondered how Snape could be treating him like this, but it felt too good to him for him to worry too much so he just blinked once again, hoping to keep the man close beside him as he drew comfort from the presence of another human.

"Okay, well the stupid, idiotic Minister decided in his infinitesimal tiny brain that this was a perfect opportunity to have you locked up in St. Mungo's and either let die so he could still deny the Dark Lord has returned or have you declared insane and silenced that way. Your little friend…Dobby…is it?" at Harry's blink he continued, "Well he decide to save you and managed to bring both you and I here. The house elves here tell me this is the Potter Manor, but I haven't seen enough of it to verify that….though why they would lie about it…" Snape seemed to forget he was talking to anyone as he thought out loud.

As he unconsciously continued rubbing his hand soothingly up and down Potter's boney chest, Snape brought himself back to his explanation. "Dobby told me he has been helping the three elves still living here in cleaning and renovating it so that you can live here. I have never heard of an elf being able to do that without being bound to the Master of the House, but I thought Dobby was bound to Dumbledore? ...Oh well, that's where we are. I am sorry, Potter, but I must evaluated the damage to your nervous system now so that I can begin to brew the potions that you will need and I am afraid it will be uncomfortable at best and very painful at worst. I will try to be as quick as I can be, but I cannot begin to heal the damage without doing it. Do you understand?"

Harry closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, already feeling the loss of the warm hand on his chest as Snape stood up beside the bed. He opened his eyes and then blinked rapidly at the sight of Fawkes appearing directly behind Snape's head.

* * *

AN: Thank you so much for your patience as it has taken me so long to post this. I have just been really busy with starting school and commuting as well as RL. And thank you to everyone who has reviewed, it keeps me writing. Also, Fawkes has found them but do you want Snape to send a message to Dumbledore or to just keep their location secret since he doesn't know anything about what is going on at Hogwarts and the Ministry? 


	7. Chapter 7: The Message

Nightmares and Daydreams

By Teacherbev

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I am not a multinational bookselling company, nor am I a multi-million dollar movie company, so I don't own anything that you recognize. I am a retired former teacher who likes to twist plots and play with characters, so enjoy.

Chapter 7: The Message

Snape had turned so quickly he seemed to be just a black blur, his robes swirling out behind him, his wand already in his hand, a curse upon his lips before he stopped, recognizing the Headmaster's Phoenix before he blasted it into bits.

"Fawkes, you need to stop that! How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me, or do you wish to be forced into another burning day?" Snape snarled as the bird seemed to smirk at him. Harry thought to himself, 'Again? Has Snape blasted Fawkes before?' He moved his eyes toward his professor as he watched him take a rolled parchment from the sharp talons. Fawkes trilled a haughty little tune at the man before gliding over and landing on Harry's chest. Harry was thankful that Fawkes was being so careful with those deadly claws. The Phoenix turned his head this way and that, as if he was evaluating the boy lying so still in the oversized bed. With a soft and soothing trill, the swan like bird bent his long neck and rubbed his head against Harry's cheek, pearly thick tears slowly sliding down the red and gold feathers and onto Harry's face as the beautiful bird cried over the damaged child.

Harry felt so warm and comfortable that he stopped fighting to keep his eyes open any more and slipped back into the peaceful blackness, the soothing lullaby being trilled so softly making all his worries and cares melt away with his consciousness.

Snape had read the short note before striding across the large bedroom to the massive oak desk that stood in an alcove in front of an oversized bay window and began pulling open drawers, looking for parchment, quill and ink to answer the Headmaster's note. He found what he needed quickly and sat down in the massive leather chair, thinking how to best word his answer.

He called Dobby to bring the softly trilling bird a handful of green and red grapes to reward him for safely delivering the missive. Fawkes was an omnivore, phoenixes could eat almost everything, but the Headmasters familiar preferred fresh fruit above any other food, particularly grapes and cherries for some reason. He would eat nuts and berries if no fruit was available, as well as grains. And since he was firmly ensconced in Hogwarts, he never had to resort to insects and small vermin as a non-bonded phoenix might have to. He read the note over again rubbing the end of the quill through the rough stubble on his chin as he pondered, trying to discern if there was a hidden message contained within it.

_Severus and Harry,_

_I am hoping that Fawkes has been able to find you as other methods have failed. Things are unsettled here, but we stand ready to assist you._

_Please, Severus how is Harry? Have you been able to isolate the poison and counteract it?_

_Albus_

It seemed straight forward and he could recognize none of their prearranged code words, but he was still reluctant to commit more than basic information to parchment no matter how secure the messenger. He chewed on the end of the quill as he mentally composed the note. With Fudge and Umbridge loose in the castle, he would have to be very careful. He thought back to the last time he had been spying and dredged up the proper words to use just in case Albus was unable to keep his message secret.

_Albus,_

_Got message safely, home is filthy, can't see out the windows so I don't know where we are. Feed Fawkes some green grapes for me, I don't have any. Red grapes were badly damaged, but I could salvage some for him. No other fruit here. _

_SS_

Snape rolled the missive up tightly and cast a person specific spell upon it so that only the Headmaster would be able to open it. He walked over and reached down to pet the large bird still trilling softly on Potter's chest. He let few people know, but he was actually quite fond of the Phoenix, and it seemed to be mutual, which was one reason that Albus had been willing to listen to his confession and then his offer to spy for the light side. Someone still in true service to the Dark Lord would never gain the confidence of a Phoenix after all.

After crooning a soft noise at the glorious bird, Snape held the tightly rolled missive out to him. Fawkes gave a final rub to Harry's cheek, rubbing in the last of his tears before turning and nipping gently at the hand being held out toward him. He rubbed a fond caress before grabbing the letter in his talons and launching himself into the air. With a flash of red and gold flames, the bird and the parchment disappeared. Snape snorted, "Bloody show off!" he muttered with an audible touch of fondness before settling down once more into the armchair with his potion's grimoire to continue his vigil until Potter woke up once more.

* * *

Draco had never spent a more miserable night, he hurt all over, and he was hungry, cold, wet and scared out of his mind about what would happen next. That, and the imbecile of a minister was still singing about a spider in the next cell, did the man never shut up?

He sat up and scuttled back against the cold stone wall behind him as he heard footsteps echoing down the long corridor toward his cell. His forced his hands underneath him to hide the shaking and clamped his jaw tight to keep himself from screaming in panic when the approaching footsteps stopped right outside his door and the scraping of a key in a rusty lock make a horrible shrieking noise that echoed down the slimy and dim corridors.

The glare of light from the hallway was harsh on Draco's eyes as he squinted painfully, noticing two large and bulky shapes entering his dismal cell. Without a sound, he was roughly grabbed by each arm and pulled to his feet. His legs refused to bear his weight, as the returning circulation shot agony up and down his legs from toes to knees. The two behemoths simply dragged him out of the dank space and then down the long hall. Draco had managed to get his feet working again before they reached the narrow and slippery stone steps or he might have been dragged up them.

He could feel his heart pounding painfully against his sore ribs as his guards drug him closer and closer to a square of light that spilled out onto the filthy and worn carpet from an open door. He blinked rapidly several times, trying futilely to clear his blurry vision before he was shoved roughly and unceremoniously through the door to sprawl in an inelegant heap at the feet of the Dark Lord once more.

"You may leave us-s-s-s." Voldemort hissed at the two burly, black robed men, their white masks flashing in the flickering torchlight as they bowed respectfully before turning and hastily making their way out of the room.

"S-s-s-o boy, you thought to act without permis-s-sion. Your reckless-s-s act has-s-s cos-s-st me greatly. And I shall exact payment for that loss-s-s-s from your very hide, boy." The sibilant hissing coming from the lipless slit on the inhuman face made Draco lose what little self-control he had managed to hang onto so desperately and the filthy and bedraggled Slytherin began to sob, pleading incoherently for mercy from his father's Lord and Master as a large wet puddle spread into the carpet underneath him.

"_Crucio!_" Voldemort's wand held steady as he laughed at the inhuman screams that filled the night, the other occupants of the Riddle Manor that night giving silent thanks that it was not them under the wand as the sounds of torture and insane laughter seemed to last for hours in the blackness of the long night.

* * *

Harry pushed himself toward the lightening area as quickly as he could managed from the black void he was floating in and eagerly anticipated seeing his mother and father once again. He opened his eyes…and then opened his mouth and screamed. 'Wormtail! How had the miserable traitorous rat got a hold of him?' he thought, his mind whirling madly as he tried to think of some way for his toddler body to escape. He screamed louder, his cheeks wet with tears, his face bright red as his baby instincts took over his fifteen year old mind and he hit the startled little rat man with his chubby clenched fists as hard in the chest as he could manage.

He felt the strong hands of his father grabbing him under his arms and closed his mouth in mid-scream, his chest still heaving as his breath caught in short hitches. He turned as quickly as he could and buried his face deeply into his father's robes, barely registering the vibration of the man's chest as his comforting tenor voice spoke soothingly to his young son.

"I've got you Harry; everything's going to be all right now, son." James was repeating this phrase over and over, one arm holding Harry securely while the other patted the still trembling and softly sobbing child.

As the meaning of the words washed into Harry's mind, an overwhelming sense of loss battled with the welcome warm feelings of love and Harry began to sob harder, the pain of losing his parents now more real and devastating than it had ever been before. He could hear his Dad calling to his wife, "Lily, can you come here for a minute, I don't know what's wrong with Harry. He just won't stop crying and he's really upset." The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps heralded Lily's entrance and she immediately rushed to her baby's side, scooping him up expertly and into her embrace. She turned her head just enough to make sure the comfortable rocking chair was standing directly behind her before she sat down, gently beginning to rock the still crying Harry, her worry plain upon her face.

"I'm not sure what's wrong, Hun. Why don't you and Peter go downstairs for a bit, and make sure that Sirius doesn't ruin dinner. I left him grilling the steaks, but you know how raw he likes to eat them." The two men looked at each other before nodding at the now quieting boy in his mum's lap and tip-toeing out of the room.

"Hush little wizard, don't say a word, Mama's gonna buy you a fwooper bird, and if that fwooper bird just dies, Mama's gonna buy you a broom that flies…" the gentle sound of his mother's soft singing eased Harry back into the darkness, his last coherent thoughts about ways a toddler might be able to warn his parents not to trust the filthy little rat faced traitor.

* * *

Snape sighed and swished his wand to turn his comfortable armchair into a small bed, Potter had managed to slip back into sleep while he had been sending off the short parchment to Dumbledore and he was oddly reluctant to force the boy to wakefulness without a pressing reason. Besides, he told himself, he needed to sleep some more before beginning the immensely complicated job of brewing precise nerve regeneration potions for the now sleeping brat.

He rubbed his gritty and tired eyes with a potion stained hand, absently noting that he needed to trim his fingernails, he had broken a couple in the last few manic days somehow without even noticing. He was still exhausted, but his mind was churning with too many thoughts for sleep to come easily, and even his formidable Occlumency skills weren't helping tonight. He knew he would have to take time soon and sort out exactly what he knew about the injured teen and what he only suspected….and plot some way to know the answers to all the unanswered questions that were plaguing him and keeping him in such mental turmoil.

He rolled over; trying to get comfortable but finally gave it up after a long forty-five minutes of tossing and grumbling. He checked the boy's vitals once more before settling himself at the large oak desk, pulling parchment; quill and ink close before beginning to list the potions he might need in the next couple of days and then meticulously listing every ingredient and its quantity for them. He would give the list to Tippy to make sure that everything was ready to begin as soon as he could test the boy's nervous system. Finally satisfied with actually doing something, he settled down once more on the conjured cot and managed to go to sleep.

* * *

Early Monday morning, shopkeepers and clerks on Diagon Alley were startled by a bizarre spectacle. The Minister for Magic, who had been missing for the last one and a half days, was sitting in a puddle in the middle of the ancient cobblestones, apparently happily making mud pies while singing to himself about the "Grand Old Duke of York" or something similar. He was oblivious to the huge crowd gathered in a large circle around him, everyone shocked silent until the flashing of the camera from Bozo, the Daily Prophet's staff photographer, broke the frozen spectators. Mr. Olivander and Tom, the barkeep from the Leaky Cauldron, each grabbed one of Cornelius' filthy arms and helped the poor man to his feet. Since they were right in front of the wand makers' shop, the two wizards took the bewildered and befuddled man into Olivander's and out of view of the now madly talking and laughing crowd.

Tom left the ancient craftsman to keep watch over the incoherent former Minister while he stuck his head into the floo, calling for Aurors and a Healer from St. Mungo's. As he turned back into the shop, he blinked slowly, his mouth open and gaping as Mr. Olivander helped Minister Fudge into a small cot and covered him gently with a blanket that the old wand maker had in the back room of his shop. Cornelius was sucking his thumb and smiling up at the two wizards with a huge smile, before he closed his eyes, humming softly to himself as he drifted off to sleep.

As the Aurors and the Healer arrived, the morning crowd in Diagon Alley dispersed, each returning to their interrupted business, the chuckling photographer almost skipping as he headed to the Daily Prophet building, mentally thanking his wife for yelling at him for breaking her favorite teacup this morning, for if she hadn't yelled at him, he wouldn't have left fifteen minutes early for work, now would he?

* * *

Dumbledore had finally convinced Minerva to go to bed, promising her repeatedly that he would send word to her as soon as he knew any information, no matter how minor it seemed. But she refused to leave until she had extracted a promise from him to sleep too, so it was a very groggy Headmaster who was awakened just after dawn, the Monday morning after Harry and Severus had gone missing after Saturday afternoon's ill-fated Quidditch match. He was somewhat relieved to have an eyewitness to the identity of the elf that had managed to kidnap the two moments before Fudge had them sent to St. Mungo's, but he still wished he had received word directly from Severus that they were still both alive, if not particularly well.

He sighed as he reached up and absentmindedly ran his long, crooked fingers through the thick plumage on Fawke's head, just the way the phoenix liked it. His eyes widened with surprise when his brain finally registered what his fingers were doing and he sat bolt upright in his oversized four poster, dumping the poor bird off of his chest in his haste. A sharp angry trilling sounded from under the heavy duvet he had dumped on the poor bird and Albus hurriedly unburied the madly spitting phoenix, who let his displeasure be known by biting Dumbledore's thumb as the poor man tried to untie the parchment roll that was tied to one sharp claw.

"Ow, ow that's enough Fawkes, I am truly sorry for dumping you like that, but I must read this missive, it's very important. Shush, I will send an elf for a whole bowl of grapes and cherries for you if you just let me have the note." Dumbledore was pleading with the still spitting Fawkes over control of the parchment, but the phoenix caved into the obvious bribe, he just loved the fruit too much to stay angry with his wizard.

Dumbledore scanned the short missive and cussed softly at the brevity of the spidery scrawl. "Well, Severus, you could have given me just a little more information. Minerva is going to scald me when I tell her you are okay, but I don't know where you are, how Harry is doing or how you got to wherever you are…or how we are going to get the two of you back." He sighed deeply and threw the warm covers the rest of the way back, there was no use trying to go back to sleep now, too many people were waiting for this news.

* * *

Harry's friends hadn't wanted to leave the common room, and none of the other Gryffindor's had the heart to insist, so the Weasleys', Hermione and Neville had camped out on the squishy old couches around the fireplace for the last day and a half, hoping every time the portrait hole opened that it would be word on their missing friend. Early Monday morning, the portrait hole opened to an almost cheerful McGonagall telling the group to go get cleaned up and changed before she was to escort them to the Headmaster's office. When they pressed her, she admitted that they had received news but that the Headmaster had extracted a promise from her not to tell them anything until they reached the security of the Headmaster's office.

The six teens muttered as they left to go up to their dormitories to clean up and change, knowing they would get no more information out of their tight lipped Head of House than that and the faster they reached Dumbledore, the faster they might be told more information.

* * *

Amelia Bones was reading a very disturbing report about the fugitive Sirius Black. How the imbecilic Fudge had managed to squash all of this information was beyond her, but she vowed that heads would roll, and not just in the Ministry! She had found evidence of huge sums of money being deposited into Fudge's Gringotts account only to be dispersed through very shady transactions to several Aurors, Wizengamot members, and even the editor of the Daily Prophet. And that was just what had been uncovered since Saturday. No telling what more corruption would be uncovered with a very thorough investigation. But for now she had the transcripts of multiple meetings between Dumbledore and Fudge as well as reams of recordings of supposedly private meetings between Fudge and his cronies.

Apparently Fudge had been as stupid as she had always suspected. Not only did the idiot forget about the recording spells imbedded into the Minister's desk and the copies of all of his meetings where the transcribing spells had not been temporarily suspended, he had kept a meticulous journal of all of his transaction at Gringotts, including who the donation came from, what it was used for, and who he had paid from it. The man really was too stupid to be allowed out without a keeper!

She looked up sharply at the solid rap on her door and spoke, "Enter." She smiled at Kingsley before the solemn expression on his face registered. She sighed as she put down the parchments she had been reading and squared her shoulders for the bad news she was sure was coming. "Okay, Shack, what's happened now?"

* * *

Dumbledore's office should have been crowded, but the huge group now gathered in plushy armchairs seemed to fit just fine. Dumbledore was trying in vain to interest anyone in a lemon drop, as the door opened and Remus Lupin entered with a large and shaggy dog trotting comfortably at his heels. Dumbledore clapped his hands and stood up, saying "It's all right Sirius, everyone here knows about you." A wave of the old man's wand produced three more chairs in a space that couldn't possible have held them and the last three men sat down.

Albus looked around the group, Minerva, Poppy and Filius, the four Weasley children, their mother and father, Hermione and now Remus and Sirius. He pulled a much crumpled parchment out of a deep pocket in his robes and began to read:

_Albus,_

_Got message safely, home is filthy, can't see out the windows so I don't know where we are. Feed Fawkes some green grapes for me, I don't have any. Red grapes were badly damaged, but I could salvage some for him. No other fruit here. _

_SS_

The group looked around in stunned silence, Sirius started to sputter under his breath as Remus looked pensive. "Headmaster, is that some kind of code…perhaps a hidden meaning of some kind?"

Dumbledore slapped his forehead before turning to look at a small bookshelf behind his desk and summoning a small, leather bound journal into his hand. He quickly flipped through the pages. "I apologize, friends, it has been so long I had forgotten. But of course, Severus would not have. Ah, here we go…now let me see…ah, yes." He looked back and forth between the page of the journal and the parchment in his other hand. "Let's see…message safe means they are safe in their location. Can't see means he is under some kind of heavy warding, possibly unplottable since the next phrase means he can't tell us where he is. The grapes are he and whoever is with him. The red grape reference means that Harry, the red is for Gryffindor; is badly damaged, but he is able to help him….that's the part where he could salvage some. The no other fruit here means there are no other people around him. So it is just the two of them wherever they are."

Minerva pursed her lips tightly together before she began to recap what the Headmaster had said. "So Severus is alone with Mr. Potter, who is badly injured, but he is able to help him. He doesn't know where he is but they are under heavy warding and there is no danger. Is that everything?"

"That's what I am getting from his rather cryptic message, yes." Dumbledore was nodding his head in agreement with her assessment.

Remus looked over at a smugly preening Fawkes, "Could Fawkes take someone to them, perhaps Madame Pomfrey?" He asked.

Everyone in the room looked at the red and gold bird that was now looking very regretful, his head hanging in apology. "Ah, I guess not." Remus sat down once more and began rubbing Sirius' shoulders, comforting his old friend.

Hermione started bouncing in her seat in excitement. "But could we send things to them to help in Harry's recovery? Maybe a two way mirror or something likes that. I read about them in the library and though they might be useful…" She broke off as Sirius' head shot up and he looked at Remus. "I still have them both…they're in my bedroom at Grimmald Place. I was going to give his dad's old one to Harry at Christmas." He jumped up, heading for the large fireplace, looking over his shoulder at the Headmaster for permission.

Albus nodded, speaking quickly, "Password to return is 'Firebird' and hurry, Sirius." The group sat, nervous but too keyed up to make small talk for barely ten minutes before the fire flared green once more and Sirius stepped through, two square mirrors clutched tight protectively against his chest. He leaned against the huge oak desk, catching his breath as he held one out to the Headmaster now standing beside him. Albus snatched a cloth sack out of a drawer, scribbled a quick note on a scrap of parchment and stuffed it into the bag with the mirror, holding it out to Fawkes, who grabbed it tightly in his talon before disappearing once more in a flash of brilliant flames, leaving a much more hopeful and relieved group of people behind.

* * *

Harry recognized the room as the small study in his parent's house as he became aware of his surroundings once more. He seemed to be slightly older than the last memory; he could stand up without wobbling any more. He looked quickly around; just his Mum and Dad with another pair of people about the same age all sitting around on chairs talking earnestly to each other. He looked around the rest of the room and spotted another child about his own age, asleep in a thick blanket on the floor. He carefully walked over to see the sleeping baby's face and fell over onto his padded bottom as he recognized a much younger Neville Longbottom sleeping peacefully in his Dad's study. He looked back at the two talking to his parents and focused his attention on their conversation.

"But if we go into hiding together, James, he might be able to find both boys. I'm sorry but I think we will be safer if we hide in two places, not one."

"I understand your concern Frank, but we would be able to help each other and there would only be one place for the Order to protect, they wouldn't have to spread themselves out so much." Lily was nodding her head at her husband as he tried to convince the Longbottom's to go into hiding with them.

Alice Longbottom spoke up, her voice clear and strong, but still a lot like Neville's. "I appreciate the offer, we really do, but Frank's mother is adamant about us staying in the Longbottom Manor. She has hired the best warding specialist in the British Isles to come and update the wards. I know that you are concerned about both boys safety, but I agree with Frank. At least this way they won't get both boys at once."

She leaned her head over onto her husband's shoulder as he continued. "I know you are trying to find the 'fidelius' warding, but there is no guarantee that you can find it in time…it's been lost too long and even if you find it, who is really strong enough to actually cast it? My mother has contracted for the warders to come next month; we will be safe until then. Now Alice, why don't you gather up Nev and we'll head for home, you know how Mum gets worried if we're out of her sight any more. Damn, I wish the old coot hadn't insisted my Mum know the prophecy too. Sometimes that woman smothers me; you would think I was still four instead of twenty-four."

The two women stood up and hugged briefly while the men shook hands. Lily scooped up Harry from where he stood beside his friend while Neville's Mum wrapped him up in the thick blanket before picking him up, still sleeping. Another round of good-byes, the women almost tearing up and the Longbottom family left through the floo.

James came over to Lily, dropping his head and shoulders until his forehead rested on top of his wife's head. "Are we doing the right thing, Lils? Maybe we should just head back to Potter Manor and upgrade the wards; it's been unplottable for centuries you know."

"James, we've been through it before, it's too big to hide under a 'fidelius' and too many people have visited it over the years. It didn't keep your parents safe, did it?" She looked pained at her husband's involuntary flinch, his parent's murder still too raw for the man to comprehend.

He laid his head down on Lily's shoulder, his face buried in his son's hair as a shudder made his shoulders shake with emotion. He whispered, almost too soft for anyone to hear, "I just can't bear the thought of losing you too, babe. Promise me, you will take Harry and run, don't stay around to help me if he finds us."

Lily started to shout, "I will not leave…"

James lifted his head, took one hand from where it had been encircling his son and wife and put a finger in front of her mouth, forcing her to listen. "Promise me, Lily. No heroics…you must save Harry." The poor man's voice was cracking with emotion as he pleaded huskily. "I can't fight knowing you are in danger…please…" His voice cracked and he was unable to continue, soft tears beginning to gather in the corners of his eyes.

Lily kissed her husband and then gently rubbed the tears away. "I promise, James…I don't like it…but I promise."

The memory faded once more and Harry let his consciousness go into the darkness once more.

* * *

AN: Sorry for the long delay but RL has been a real pain lately. Hope to update again soon. 


	8. Chapter 8: Messages

Nightmares and Daydreams

By Teacherbev

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I am not a multinational bookselling company, nor am I a multi-million dollar movie company, so I don't own anything that you recognize. I am a retired former teacher who likes to twist plots and play with characters, so enjoy.

Chapter 8: Messages

Acting Minister Bones gestured for the new Chief Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt to have a seat on one of the worn but comfortable leather chairs facing her desk. She steepled her calloused hands together, absent-mindedly tapping her chin with her fingers as she searched her long time friend and colleague as he fidgeted nervously before her for any clues as to what this meeting was about.

"Okay, Shack, I give up. What do you need to tell me that you don't want to?" Her voice was demanding but not without overtones of their long friendship and her deep respect and fondness hidden within it.

Kingsley ran his hand over his bald head and sighed. "They found Minister Fudge."

Amelia sat forward, her hands dropped down to the desk as she focused all of her attention on the man sitting reluctantly in front of her.

"And…" she prompted.

"It's not good, Amelia, not good at all. He was found sitting in the middle of Diagon Alley this morning, making mud pies and singing muggle nursery rhymes. St. Mungo's says his mind is totally in withdrawal. Apparently shock and denial have caused him to completely retreat from reality."

"Well, that will make it easier to have him permanently removed instead of just temporarily while we go through the Wizengamot and have him arrested for fraud and corruption. How long do we have?" Her sharp mind was calculating and planning different scenarios as she questioned her friend.

Kingsley shrugged his massive shoulders, which looked rather incongruous on such a well muscled frame.

"The Head Mind Healer won't say. It could be tomorrow, next week, next month…or never. Though he suspects it won't be for months at the least. Any further shocks could send the Minister into catatonia permanently, so they can only wait for him to recover on his own."

Amelia opened the bottom drawer on the left side of her massive desk and pulled out a folder so thick it took both hands to lift it up. She slid it across the desk to Kingsley and looked at him through her monocle, contemplating how to word her request.

"I want you to go through this with a fine tooth comb and compile data on everyone listed in here. I want air tight criminal cases against everyone that we can and enough leverage to force anyone we can't out of the ministry. Starting with the highest Department Head and going down. See if you can get the Quibbler to print up selected excerpts from the transcripts about anyone that tries to fight dirty. I want this as your top priority. We need to get this rot cleaned out of the ministry as quickly as possible. Let me know who you need to work on this with you and I'll pull strings and get you adequate funding. Pull a couple of clerks out of the secretarial pool, just make sure you vet them for other….leanings before you let them handle any sensitive material."

Kingsley picked up the massive folder, glancing inside at a couple of the top sheets. His eyes widened in surprise and he took a quick breath inward in surprise.

"How did you get the goblins to release this?"

"Apparently they hate Umbridge and her insane laws and regulations as much as we do so they have decided to actually side with our side against Voldemort and his followers. I think old Ragnok realized there was no way they could remain neutral this time around. He's a cagey old goblin and I know he could see right through the promises of equality the Death Eaters have been trying to bribe them with. He knows any agreement with that group would only last until they won, and then the goblins would fare no better than any other non-wizard group, and probably worse.

Kingsley nodded his understanding and stood to leave the office. His hand on the door handle, he turned around to ask one last question.

"I know you were looking into the Sirius Black case, any conclusions yet?"

Amelia almost snorted in disgust.

"Now there's one perfect example of power being used to railroad an innocent man while blatant criminals were allowed to purchase their freedom. I'm not sure exactly what happened that night, but after reading the reports and then rereading Potter's story in the Quibbler, I tend to believe Potter's telling of events. If I had a way of contacting Black I would have him appear in my office. After a little judicious use of Veritaserum, I'm certain he would be leaving with a full pardon and a hefty chunk of galleons for wrongful imprisonment. If the word should reach him…"

She raised an eyebrow conspiratorially toward the silent man. Kingsley just asked, "Hypothetically…if he was to receive such a message…when should he…" he let his voice trail off.

"Oh, I should be alone tonight after eight p.m. There should be no one in the outer office to send for the Aurors or to stop him from entering my office. Of course, if say…you…were here to protect me… and you just happened to have a vial of truth serum." She raised one thin eyebrow at him and then lowered it again into a subtle wink at his nod of understanding.

Kingsley simply nodded again in acknowledgement of her wink and left the room. Amelia sighed, made a couple quick notations on a large folder that was sitting on the corner of her desk and with another deep sigh, turned to the huge stack of parchments perched precariously in her 'in' box.

* * *

Snape woke up suddenly, standing up he dropped his book as he stood quickly; drawing his wand so rapidly his hand appeared as a blur and fired a blaring red stunner across the room. He blinked to clear his eyes of any lingering film from falling asleep as he was reading, chuckling as he marched over to a quivering Fawkes who was hiding rather unsuccessfully behind the desk chair, his feathers ruffled, and a thin scorch mark burned plainly across the feathers on the top of his head. A mournful squawk sounded as Snape turned the chair around, his smirk plainly visible. 

"I warned you about just showing up without warning me, you overgrown chicken. Now what did you bring from the old codger." His unsympathetic words and name calling didn't match the genuine fondness in his voice as he softly stroked the head of the still shivering phoenix.

Fawkes finally stood up and shook his plumage, settling the ruffled feathers back into place as he proffered one sharply hooked foot toward the gently laughing man.

Snape opened the small bag carefully, certain that no one would be able to intercept or curse anything the phoenix delivered, but his naturally cautious manner had kept him alive in circumstances that others would not have lived through. He used his wand to cast several obscure but very effective spells that checked for tracking spells or harmful curses and found nothing but Dumbledore's magical signature and a slightly familiar tinge of someone else magic that he couldn't pinpoint. But there were no traces of malice so he peeled back the fabric bag and uncovered the small rectangle of a plain muggle shaving mirror. A torn piece of parchment was held to the surface with a mild sticking charm, so he pulled it off and opened it to read the familiar loopy calligraphy of the Headmasters writing.

_Severus and Harry,_

_Received your message and understand. Fudge and Umbridge have been removed from the castle so any message sent is secure. _

_This mirror is charmed to be a two way communication device, simply say my name and I will answer if I am able. If I speak your name, your mirror will warm and you can answer by saying my name. _

_Poppy and I are in my office awaiting your call now._

_Please, my dear boy let me know how you are. I have been worried sick about the both of you since your disappearance._

_Albus_

Snape reread the message, looking for any hidden meaning but he could discern nothing out of the ordinary. He picked the mirror up and held it closely to his face as he clearly said, "Albus Dumbledore."

His own reflection blurred and turned black before the image of Dumbledore appeared in a swirl of white fog that rapidly cleared into the worried but smiling visage of the Headmaster.

"Severus, my boy, how are you. I am so pleased to be able to see for myself that you are alright. Now what can you tell me about what happened and how young Harry is fairing? Poppy is here beside me as are Filius and Minerva. They can all hear you as well."

Snape thought about what he needed to say and how much he would be able to tell them about where they were. He wasn't the secret keeper and in fact he never had found out who held the fidelius charm for the Manor. His eyebrows creased together as he pondered the puzzle, unaware that he was causing great agitation in the foursome waiting impatiently for him to explain.

"Severus, is something wrong there?" Albus sounded worried as Snape had remained quiet longer than he had expected.

"No, Albus, it is just I am not sure how much I can tell you about our current location as I am not the holder of the knowledge as to our location." Snape was pleased he had managed to skirt the words 'secret' and 'keeper' and 'fidelius charm' in such a way that the old man would know exactly what he was referencing without him having to try to say it.

"I understand Severus. You are hidden safely but unable to speak about your exact location. How is Harry doing? Were you able to identify and counteract the poison in time?"

"I have access to a fully stocked and supplied potions lab as well as trained house elves here. I was able to brew the '_Acclero'_ potion to identify the poison used. Unfortunately it was the '_nervulus veneficium'_. I was able to brew the antidote in time to save his life, but he appears to have suffered rather significant nerve damage before I could administer it. I am sorry, Headmaster, but I brewed it as quickly as I could…" His head dropped as if afraid to see disappointment and blame in the Headmasters face.

"Severus, I know that you did the very best you could for Harry. I am certain that no one else would have been able to even save Harry's life. You can help him to heal can you not?" The question cut through the potions masters self recrimination and he drew his gaze up to meet the blue eyes once more, a brief flicker of hope and pleasure at the implied praise only evident to Albus because he knew the taciturn man so well.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Potter has woken up once and appeared to be lucid and aware of his surroundings, though he is unable to speak. He can swallow potions and water with assistance, but he is unable to do much more than blink once for yes and twice for no. I was unable to assess any more because he lapsed back into sleep while I was answering your message."

Dumbledore handed the mirror over to Poppy and the two began a technical discussion about various potions and salves that he only understood about half of. He looked bemusedly at Filius and Minerva who both had baffled expressions on their faces. With a rueful chuckle he quipped, "I only understand half of what they are talking about because of my work in alchemy and dragon's blood. I doubt anyone not into potions and healing as they both are would understand what they are arguing about."

As Poppy finished speaking to her colleague and laying the now dark mirror back onto the Headmasters desk, she turned to her waiting friends and sighed wistfully. "I don't know where he is, but it must have a truly spectacular library. Severus was telling me about several books chock full of ancient and forgotten healing potions that he will be able to brew to assist Harry's recovery. I wish I was able to join them and not just to help heal Harry."

The four sat down for a comfortable tea and discussed how they would handle the aftermath of the brutal Quidditch match now that their overwhelming concerns about their missing friends had been eased slightly.

* * *

Draco hurt all over, more than he had ever hurt before. The summer after first year, when he had snuck into his father's study and hidden under his desk while his father spoke about the upcoming school year and how he was planning to hide the Dark Lord's diary so that their Lord could regain a body to several of his cronies, he had thought that he had hurt. He had been caught and as soon as they were alone without anyone to witness, his father had lashed out with a 'crucio' for his misdeed but it was barely the pain of a hangnail compared to what he was feeling now! He wasn't sure it would be worth it to completely wake up ever again. Perhaps he could just remain unconscious for the rest of his life; even if he suspected that it would be a very short life now. 

'I was such an idiot, why did I think Father would be proud of me if I killed Potter. Stupid, idiotic …' Draco was only too willing to call himself names after the fact, it was just too bad he hadn't completely thought out the consequences of his actions before he acted like some idiotic Gryffindork. But he had just been too angry at how Potter always seemed to be on top no matter how hard he tried to beat him. First the maddeningly popular boy had strutted around the castle, seemingly oblivious to the stares of adoration that everyone gave him. Then all summer long it seemed that all his Father thought about was Potter and how he could capture him, ignoring his own son. Father hadn't been pleased to find out that the only class Draco led his year in was potions, and that was most likely because of Professor Snape's well known bias towards his own house. Blast it but not only Granger had beaten him in every class, but so had bloody St. Potter. Not even the Ravenclaws had beaten the final grades of the two. And when his Father had started spouting off the punishments that he would inflict upon his son if the filthy mudblood know-it-all beat his scores on the fall term were piled upon his snide remarks about how even having a superior broom hadn't helped him catch a single snitch against the arrogant Potter git, it had just driven Draco over the edge.

As he moaned and tried to find a more comfortable position on the chilly and damp stone floor, Draco couldn't stop himself from thinking about how little Quidditch matches and term grades meant in his life now.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes warily, hoping that Wormtail was no longer anywhere near him. He looked around and finding himself alone in his room again, he climbed carefully out of the sturdy crib and padded out the door and down the hall, looking for his Mum or Dad. His face split into a wide grin, his four teeth gleaming as he spotted his godfather coming out of a room down the hall from him. 

"Pa'foo!" he yelled, holding up his arms instinctively to be picked up.

"Hey, kiddo! Done with your nap already? Are you ready for some fun? Your Mum said we could take you out to the pond to swim some this afternoon if you like. Swim? Water? Splash, splash?" Sirius made splashing motions with his free hand as he questioned the baby on his hip.

"Spas, spas!" Harry happily gurgled back at Sirius, laughing at the man's silly baby talk. Too bad his mouth wouldn't form the words his brain wanted them too yet. He would love to have a long conversation with his Mum and Dad, but so far he had only been able to make silly garbled syllables. But at least they all seemed to be able to understand what he was trying to tell them.

Lilly came up the stairs toward the two madly giggling wizards, a load of towels and neatly folded sheets in her arms. She smiled at the two as she leaned in and kissed Harry's soft cheek affectionately.

"Yes Harry, splash, splash. But first it's lunch time and then we need to talk with your Uncle Paddy before you boys can go down to the pond to splash." She continued around them and down the hall to put away the load of clean linens. With a playful little leap every couple of steps; Sirius carried Harry down the stairs and into the kitchen, a practiced movement placing his godson safely into his highchair without him even having to think about it as he turned to laugh at his best friend James expertly flipping a grilled cheese sandwich on a large flat griddle.

"Oh, if the Professors of Hogwarts could see you now, they would wonder why they wasted seven years of magical education on you just for you to become a muggle cook." Sirius teased.

"If you want some of this lunch than you will shut it or you will be the one cooking, Paddy." James mock growled at the laughing man now sitting down beside Harry. Sirius raised both hands in mock surrender as Lily came into the room and kissed her husband before taking the spatula out of his hand and shooing him toward the table. She expertly flipped the golden brown sandwich onto the top of the platter already full of perfectly toasted cheese sandwiches, and placed the tray in the middle of the table. She pulled a large saucepan off of the back burner and deftly placed it on the waiting trivet before slipping a serving ladle into the thick chicken noodle soup and moving a pile of plates, bowls and silverware from the sideboard and onto the table where her husband served up a sandwich and a bowl of soup to everyone before taking one himself.

"Now Sirius, I will have you know that this is considered 'comfort food' by many muggles when they have something upsetting to discuss."

Sirius heaved a sigh and put his half eaten sandwich back down on his plate as the smile evaporated from his face. "It's the '_fidelius'_ again isn't it?"

Lily reached out a hand and patted the dark haired man's hand in silent comfort as she nodded.

"I thought we had decided that Remus would take my place. I mean I am the logical and obvious choice so I am the first one those bloody Death Eaters will try to capture. No one would suspect quiet studious Remus of being the secret keeper now would they? Or use Peter, no one would figure Peter had the strength or wit to cast such an obscure and draining spell."

James sighed as he tried to explain his reasoning to his best friend. "It's just that lately, Harry has been so upset every time Remus and Peter come around that it's beginning to give us the willies. I mean, there must be a reason, Harry likes almost everyone…well except Snape… and Remus and Peter." He got a pensive look upon his face as he considered everyone who had come in contact with them over the last couple of months. "And that's it. Only those three upset Harry so much. I can understand Snape, hell I don't like the man even if he is one our side now, but I just can't explain the other two. Harry even likes Hagrid and you know we thought it might be him spying for a time…" his voice trailed off as he contemplated his son's rather vocal dislike of the three wizards once more.

Lily looked pensive also. "Why don't we invite Remus and Peter over to join you three swimming this afternoon? I don't know of any way of completely hiding the dark mark and if either of them refuse to come than we would know… well if they did come swimming we would know for sure that they don't have the mark, wouldn't we?"

James jumped up and kissed his wife's cheek. "I'll be right back in a sec. That was a brilliant idea, hon." He left to hurriedly floo from his study.

She called out to his disappearing back, "That is why they pay me the big bucks as an Unspeakable you know." She sounded smug but the only answer she got was a snort from Sirius as he grabbed another half of a cheese sandwich and cut it into small bits for Harry to eat.

As Harry crammed a small piece of sandwich into his mouth and gummed it until it was so mushy it dissolved, he plotted ways to let his parents know it was not Remus he was upset over, but Peter Pettigrew only. But it seemed the two friends always came together and his parents hadn't discovered yet that it was only one of the two that made him so upset.

* * *

Snape called Dobby to come watch Harry for him while he brewed one of the potions he had found in an obscure handwritten old grimoire that he suspected might be as old as Hogwarts herself. He certainly knew he had never heard of it spoken of publicly before, only in hushed whispers amongst the small cadre of potions masters as they met in very discrete Guild meetings. He forcibly restrained himself from bouncing on his heels in excitement as he issued instructions to the little elf. He smirked as he realized the little being was almost as excited about watching the sleeping boy as he was to begin brewing a 'mythical' potion. 

"So call me or one of the other elves if his pulse falls below 60 beats a minute or above 100; or he begins to breathe more than 20 times in a minute or has any wheezes or rattles in his breathing. Can you do that, Dobby?"

"Oh yes, Master Snapes, sir. Dobby is doing excellent watching over his Harry Potter, sir. Yous can brew potions to helps Master Harry Potter sirs. Dobby will give his life to protect Master Harry Potter, sir." The little being looked fierce enough to stand up to the Dark Lord himself as he crossed his arms and glared at the door as if expecting a horde of invaders to appear at any moment.

With a nod of satisfaction, Severus turned, his robes billowing familiarly around his calves as he strode with sure and confident strides out the door and then down the long hallway, his boots making a rhythmic cadence of sharp taps on the highly polished split oak floors as he forced himself not to run in his eagerness to reach the potions laboratory.

* * *

When the portrait hole opened, the entire Gryffindor Common room froze; the soft murmurs of conversation stopping instantly as all eyes turned toward the back of the Fat Lady's portrait. No one took a breath, no one moved in anticipation of the new arrival. A sigh of disappointment sounded from dozens of throats as Professor McGonagall's long green robes were recognized even before she had fully stepped through. The hope that it had been Harry Potter returning, healed from his injuries as he always was, had flared for a brief moment amongst all of his house mates. 

With her lips pursed tightly, Professor McGonagall looked askance at the glares of disappointment she was receiving from her charges until, with a flash of understanding; she realized that they had all been hoping that she was their schoolmate returning.

"I am sorry to report that we do not yet know exactly where Mr. Potter is residing at this moment, but I am happy to be able to report to you that we are in receipt of a message from Professor Snape as to his condition." She waited for the cheers this announcement brought forth to subside before continuing, "He has been stabilized for now, the poison was dastardly and deadly, but Professor Snape was able to brew the antidote in time. Mr. Potter is no longer in danger of dying. He will have a long and painful recovery, but he should recover. Now, supper will be served in the common rooms this evening as the school is still in lock down. Anyone found trying to leave their common room without permission will face dire consequences. Classes will resume in the morning, following further announcements in the Great Hall after breakfast." She gave the relieved group a small smile and finished her speech.

"Now I suggest all of you go and get cleaned up, the elves will be bringing supper up in fifteen minutes. I will be back later to check on the house so please be on your best behavior. Thank you." She motioned for the Weasleys and Granger to follow her before she turned and left the room.

* * *

Kingsley Shacklebolt looked around at his specially selected teams of Aurors and let a small smile of pride and satisfaction grace his lips before he told them to stand down while he briefed them on the night's missions. 

"Moody and Tonks, you will be in charge of arresting the Parkinsons. Be careful, our intelligence says he might be stockpiling muggle explosives under his manor. All of you have permission from the new Minister to use deadly force if need be, just no Unforgivables please."

Kingsley ignored several small gasps from the room as assignments were handed out against several prominent Wizengamot leaders and two Department Heads as well as several well respected members of the Ministry who were now exposed as moles and financial backers of the Death Eater movement and its vile leader, Voldemort. Everyone in the room had been directly or indirectly affected by the last war and they were smiling as they finally felt the shackles that Cornelius Fudge and his corrupt administration had inhibited them with fall away.

A satisfied snort met the arrest and confiscation orders for Umbridge, Cooper and Smythe as they were handed out. An almost feral growl was the response from Aurors Gumboil and Williamson as they eagerly grabbed the papers to confiscate every item in Borgin and Burkes and arrest anyone on the premises, including the two subterranean chambers burrowed deep under Knockturn Alley.

"All prisoners are to be brought in anti-apparition manacles and stunned and bound to the Ministry holding cells. No one is to be remanded to Azkaban until further notice. A group of Ragnok's goblins will be transporting prisoners after processing to holding cells deep within the goblin nation. A contract has been hammered out for the goblins to supply prison space, interrogation facilities and guards. Any dementor found off of Azkaban is to be treated as hostile and driven off pending development of some way of destroying them."

He went around the crowded room, sending twos and threes to arrest those the Potter boy had named and the others the Aurors had been positive were Death Eaters but had been unable to convince the old Minister to arrest. Smiles of long awaited satisfaction graced most of the faces as they headed out to the apparition point, arrest warrants and writs to seize and destroy assets firmly grasped in eager hands.

As the room cleared, Kingsley smiled deeply at the conversations he overheard. His fellow Aurors had been bound by the corrupt politicians for too long, but tonight they would begin to reassert themselves as the honorable and incorruptible force they had once been.

* * *

Snape was almost finished with his second new healing potion when Tippy tugged at his robe sleeve and waited for the potions master to acknowledge him. He finished his counting and laid the stirring stick down as he absentmindedly flicked off the flame under the medium sized cauldron of simmering foul greenish grey nerve replenisher potion with a well practiced wand motion. 

"Yes, Tippy what is it?" He found himself rather fond of the well trained and subservient house elf. Tippy and the other elves in Potter Manor certainly didn't display any of the irritating nervousness and excessive excitement of the Hogwarts elves.

"Master Snape, sir. Dobby is reporting that Master Harry is waking up. His pulse and breathing are reaching the limits that you gave him. He believes young Master is in pain as he is moaning and sweating."

"Thank you. Tippy, please watch this potion for ten minutes, and then stir it twelve times counter clockwise before bottling it. The single dose vials are already laid out on the table beside the teaspoon sized ladle there. Each vial should contain two ladles full of potion and then seal them with the wax stoppers from the small box beside the vial holder. Do you understand these directions?" Snape asked, curiosity audible in his voice as he wondered exactly how trained in potions making these small creature were…and exactly who had trained them so well.

Tippy nodded his head, his expression unusually solemn for a house elf as he answered his beloved Miss Lily's brother. "Oh yes, Master Snape. We is all schooled in how to help the potions mistress and master. We is doing everything that needs to be done sir."

Snape let out a deep breath while wiping his hands off on a soft clean cloth. He turned and stalked out of the dungeons and up to his young charge, shoulders squared and resolute to face the daunting task of healing the Boy-Who-Lived once more.

* * *

AN: Thank you for your patience in awaiting this update. For those who have read Paddy's Little Pup, you know that my oldest daughter passed away unexpectedly on April 13th and I have been overwhelmed with taking care of everything, flying back to Washington State for her services and then returning to Hell Week and Finals at college. My semester is over, I am not taking Summer School and I don't have much on the calendar until July when the house I am buying will be available to move into. I hope to update on a more regular basis. Thank you to everyone who reads my stories and a special thank you to those who have taken the time to review or express your support and comfort to me. I really appreciate every one of you. 


	9. Chapter 9: Awake at Last

Nightmares and Daydreams

By Teacherbev

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I am not a multinational bookselling company, nor am I a multi-million dollar movie company, so I don't own anything that you recognize. I am a retired former teacher who likes to twist plots and play with characters, so enjoy.

Chapter 9: Awake at Last

Minerva McGonagall pursed her thin lips in disapproval as she muttered the newest abominable password to the gargoyle guarding the Headmasters office and then ushered the 5 Gryffindor students up the moving staircase to the circular office.

"Move along, don't dawdle. Mr. Weasley, if you would be so kind as to knock on the Headmaster's door." She wasn't completely sure which of the twins she was addressing, but it made no difference as the boy rapped sharply on the thick, heavily carved oak door.

"Ah, yes, come in children, come in." Albus called out through the door.

McGonagall shooed each child into a waiting chair and then took the last empty one before the Headmaster's massive oaken desk.

With the dazzling twinkle fully restored to his startling blue eyes, Dumbledore began. "I have received word that Professor Snape has been successful in identifying and brewing the antidote to the poison that young Mr. Malfoy applied to the dagger he used to inflict the horrendous injury upon your friend. Unfortunately, that particular poison has long lasting and horrendous side effects, but we fully expect your friend to fully recover eventually."

Hermione looked ready to jump out of her seat as she bounced in excitement. "What poison was it? What are the side effects? How long is the recovery period? And how did Malfoy get hold of the poison in the first place?" She hadn't taken a single breath between questions.

The Headmaster just chuckled while making a downward motion with both hands. "Calm down, Ms. Granger, calm down. Now let me see…first the poison is called the '_nervulus veneficium'_ and it works by paralyzing the victim's voluntary nervous system first and then the involuntary nervous system until the poor soul dies of suffocation. Now, now, Professor Snape has successfully brewed and administered the antidote and Mr. Potter is no longer in danger of dying. Unfortunately the poison is rather fast acting and significant nerve damage has occurred. Professor Snape is currently analyzing the damage and will begin brewing the proper nerve renewal and replenishing potions as soon as his analysis is done. It will be for the best if both Professor Snape and Mr. Potter remain in hiding at their current location until the cure and his recovery are sufficient for his safety before returning to the castle. At their current location, no one and nothing can interfere with Mr. Potter's recovery."

All five teenagers leapt from their seats and began complaining loudly about the care that their friend would receive at the hands of his most hated teacher but Dumbledore simply shushed them with a strong glare and continued.

"I know you would wish your friend to be returned to the hospital wing so that you might visit with him and help him with his long recovery, but it is just not safe at this time. The castle is too open and there are too many people that wish harm upon Mr. Potter for us to justify the risk. I will send progress reports to you as I receive them but for now you must just trust us and turn your attention back to your schoolwork."

* * *

Draco forced his bloodshot and swollen eyes open, fear and pain clearly written upon his once aristocratic face. Between the bruises, the blood and the swelling, very little of his haughty and arrogant mien remained. The door to his cell opened slowly, almost stealthily before a very large figure draped in the familiar black death eater robes slipped into the dank chamber. The door was slipped shut and the figure turned around, a finger across the lips looking oddly silly with the white death eater mask still in place. Draco nodded his understanding and managed to push himself up off of the slimy floor, his arms shaking with the exertion and the after effects of the Cruciatus curses that he had suffered.

A low voice hissed as the harsh whisper echoed in the small cell. "Don't say a word and don't try to figure out who I am. I owed a life debt to your father and I am repaying it to you since he is dead." A small figurine of a snake was dropped into his lap and before Draco could fully recognize the object, the wizard hissed again. "Give me fifteen minutes to get someplace populated for an alibi and then the password is 'Home Base'. That portkey will take you home to Malfoy Manor where I suggest you and your mother disappear before the Dark Lord finds out where you are and comes after you again."

Without another word the cell door was eased open once more and the large man disappeared with a grace unexpected from someone so huge. Draco wasn't sure to believe what he had been told, but at the moment he had nothing to loose by trying the portkey and everything to gain if it turned out to really be true.

Gathering his strength together he sat up straighter, a faint feeling of hope blossoming in his chest for the first time since the ill fated Quidditch match as he silently counted slowly.

He had reached almost three thousand when he heard footsteps approaching his cell and refusing to take a chance at anyone coming in and finding the portkey he had clasped tightly in his fist, he took a deep breath and whispered, "Home Base" Tears of relief flooded his eyes as he felt the familiar tug behind his navel just as the sound of a key scraping in his cell door registered.

* * *

Snape had hurried up the massive staircases once more, barely noticing the opulent but very tasteful wealth of the Potter Manor. He rushed down the hallway, the sounds of low moans leading him to Potter's room once more. He could hear the elf Dobby trying in vain to comfort the boy as he pushed the door open and entered.

"You's is safe, Master Harry Potter. I's is keeping yous safe." The little elf said, frantic with worry.

Something that had been bothering Snape filtered up from his subconscious as he blurted out.

"You bonded yourself to Mr. Potter, didn't you? That's how you were able to access the Manor even with the Fidelius intact. I had wondered how you would have been able to contact the Manors elves, but if you were also bonded to the Potter line it would have been instinctual, wouldn't it?"

Dobby hung his head in shame. "Yes sir Professor, sir. Elveses need a Master to keep their magic strong. I was losing mys magic by being 'free' and I's needed a new master sos I bonded Master Harry Potter without hes knowing. I's is a bad elf I is." Dobby began to beat his head against one of the tall posts of Harry's bed as he spoke.

"Stop that Dobby. If you had not bound yourself to him, he would be dead now. By binding yourself you saved both of your lives. Do you think Mr. Potter would be upset with you for saving your life after he freed you from Malfoy?" Snape's voice was uncharacteristically kind to the little being as he grabbed one small arm and pulled him away from the four poster bed and out into the room.

"Now, I need your assistance and I can't have it if you are forever punishing yourself. I need a bowl of beef tea for Potter and a substantial meal for myself. I don't know what food you have access to so just whatever you can fix up will be fine. Go now." He let go of Dobby's arm and Dobby disappeared with a small smile and a large crack of displaced air.

Snape rolled his eyes at the mercurial moods of the little being and hoped the calmness and well trained behavior of the other elves was contagious. He shook his head as he strode over to the bed and surveyed his patient with a critical eye. Potter was sweating, his brow furrowed in pain as soft moans escaped his clenched teeth.

Snape sat on the bed and summoned a bowl of water and a clean cloth from the nearby bathroom. He dunked the flannel and wrung it out in a single expert motion before wiping down the sweaty faced boy beside him. After cleaning him up, he rewet the flannel and folded it neatly before placing in on Harry's forehead.

He was analyzing the diagnostic spell he had cast when he noticed two pain filled dull green eyes watching his every move. He sat down on the edge of the bed once more and took the boy's wrist into his own hand, checking the now slightly stronger pulse as he spoke.

"I have a couple of potions that I need you to take, Potter. One is a nerve renewal potion and the other is a pain potion that I developed for the Cruciatus curse. I know that you haven't received the curse but the poison damaged your nerves in much the same way so it should help better than a simple pain potion. After that I need to do some physical testing to asses the damage. I am hoping the pain potion minimizes the pain, but I must know the damage even if it causes you pain."

Harry looked up at the man that had tormented him for the last four years and wondered why he was acting so nicely toward him. Was he going to die and Snape just didn't want him to know or was it just a matter of not kicking someone when they were down? Harry couldn't figure out the man's motives but for now he was totally helpless so he would be at Snapes mercy whether he wanted to be or not so he might as well co-operate with him.

At Harry's blink of understanding, Snape leaned forward and pulled the boy up to tuck a pile of pillows behind the slack body. He cringed involuntarily at how much the boy felt like a dead body before rigor set it, all flaccid and limp. He flung an arm behind the madly flopping head and realized that the boy no longer had enough muscle tone to keep himself upright on the pile of pillows by himself. With a sigh of resignation he scooted himself forward until he was beside the boy and leaned Harry's head over until it was cradled between his shoulder and the crook of his elbow.

"Can you open your mouth, Potter? Yes, just like that…" he murmured softly as he dribbled a tiny amount of the nerve renewal potion down the slack mouth, waiting patiently for each painful swallow of the boy's throat before dribbling a little more. It took a long time, but he eventually had both potions safely ingested.

Snape carefully laid the boy back down on the bed, throwing the extra pillows over on the cot he had conjured yesterday to move them out of the way. He took a deep breath before standing up and grabbing one too thin ankle firmly. "I apologize if this is too painful but I must do it. I will try to be as quick as I can, Potter."

Snape pulled a long thin needle from his pocket and began poking each of the toes on the limp foot in his other hand, watching Harry's face closely to note every reaction. He had moved up his foot and almost all the way to his hip before he noticed the first flinch of pain cross the boy's face. "Did you feel that Potter? Just blink once every time you feel something."

It was slow going and Harry had tears of pain streaking both cheeks before the ordeal finally ended. Snape would never admit it but it had been almost as difficult for him to keep inflicting pain on the totally helpless boy as it had been on Harry to have to lie there and be stuck over and over again without mercy. Snape had had to steel his heart against the boy's cries of anguish and force himself to continue with the testing.

It had seemed an eternity to both wizards before Snape finally fed Harry a dreamless sleep potion and allowed him to sink into oblivion once more. He made sure the boy was totally out of it before he allowed himself to sink onto the bed beside the now deeply sleeping child. He dropped his head into his shaking hands and shuddered with his own agony. A loud pop caused him to lift his head, his dark eyes full of anguish and distress before he recognized the form of Dobby standing quietly with a fully laden tray held before him.

"Dobby is bringing food for Master Snape, sir." The elf carefully sat the tray on the bedside table before snapping his fingers and summoning a square glass tumbler half full of a softly glowing smoky amber liquid. He bowed noiselessly and disappeared as soon as the glass was safely transferred to the grateful wizard's hand.

Snape ran a long fingered hand through his limp and greasy hair as he gratefully took a long swig of the potent fire whiskey the elf had summoned for him. Barely registering the fine quality of the potable as the familiar burning feeling eased his emotional turmoil some, the exhausted man looked over the tray of food beside him. Sighing deeply as he picked up the earthenware bowl encrusted with golden melted cheese, he swallowed the first hot mouthful of succulent French Onion soup gratefully.

With his mind already occupied with thoughts of potions and elixirs for the child entrusted to his care, he managed to completely finish off the large serving of bangers and mash and was halfway through an excellent spotted dick before the subtle groans and small movements alerted him to Harry's wakefulness.

Snape stood swiftly, putting the half eaten pudding back onto the tray as he reached for the small bowl of beef tea. After carefully and gently propping the boy up, he began lecturing his captive audience about the different properties of various healing plants and potions as he slowly dribbled the cool beef tea into the child's mouth. If he was going to be spending countless hours taking care of the insufferable brat, the imbecile might as well learn something at the same time.

* * *

Narcissa screamed shrilly as a mass of bleeding, grimy filthy robes appeared before her in Lucius' private study. As a loud moan registered as belonging to her missing son, she dropped the large bag of galleons that she had been removing from the muggle safe behind the now awake portrait of Lucius and dropped to her knees beside the boy.

"Lizy, Tippy come here now!" She shrieked imperiously. A double crack of displaced air preceded the appearance of two of the Manor's better trained and more sane elves in front of her. "Take Draco up to his room and clean him up and heal him. Then bring him back to me." She ordered rapidly, unwilling to stop her ransacking of the Manor's valuables for too long. With the reappearance of Draco, she knew she had very little time before her husband's vile Master showed up wanting her vow of subservience and debt.

She summoned Button, the most trustworthy of her elves and sent him to Gringotts with a letter commanding the entire contents of the Malfoy vault to be removed and sent to her own vault. Her aunt Walburga had insisted during her private tutoring sessions with all of her nieces that an witch worthy of being called a Black should always have several contingency plans for safe escape at all times and Narcissa had learned her lessons well. Over the last few years she had been tempted to implement one several times but she knew that Lucius would never rest until he had found her and brought her back. And no matter how cruel and hateful her husband and his Master could be, she didn't want to leave and desert her only son until she was certain she could not sway him from the murderous and insane path that his father was forcing upon the boy.

Narcissa always suspected that Draco didn't have the evil heartless personality to be a truly successful Death Eater, but it wasn't something she could ever openly discuss with anyone, least word of the conversation reach back to Lucius' ears through his network of ever present spies. But with his death, she was now free to run and with the reappearance of her son in such a dreadful state, she knew that the boy would be at least willing to listen to her pleas.

Within thirty minutes, all of her essential tasks had been completed and a much subdued but almost healed Draco was waiting in her private sitting room. The vile portrait of Lucius had never stopped spewing obscenities and dire prognostications of the torment and torture that she would be shortly subjected to at Narcissa as she went about the room. She had emptied the safe and shrunk any belongings worth being taken with them and now she was methodically setting fire spells with a twenty minute delay all over the manor.

She called the elves to her and sent them on to her secure bolt-hole in Australia. She sent most of the shrunken items from the Manor, keeping only the most valuable and irreplaceable with her. She dragged Draco to his feet, casting a glamour disguise over the still somewhat shocked boy before casting a similar spell on herself. The still looked like mother and son, but they now matched the nondescript brown haired, blue eyed couple on their fake muggle passports.

She opened her large brown purse, checking to make sure the open dated first class tickets to Australia were firmly in place as well as the Muggle platinum credit cards and a very full Muggle wallet. She pulled a man's wallet and passport out; checking to make sure everything was in place before handing them to Draco, err…Derek Malone.

She pulled her son close to her before apparating the two of them to a deserted alley that ran alongside a Muggle Mall. She checked their clothing and disguises before grabbing her son by the hand and walked out into the busy afternoon traffic, disappearing seamlessly into the mundane world.

She blessed her sister Andromeda for teaching her all about the real Muggle world, not that crap they taught as Muggle Studies at Hogwarts, as she expertly hailed a taxi to Heathrow Airport and their long flight to safety and anonymity.

* * *

Harry hurt all over before he was finally allowed to slip back into the peaceful blackness of sleep. He eagerly searched out the familiar bright light of his parent's house and slipped into his year old body almost joyfully. It appeared to be no later in his life than his last memory…vision…well whatever they were.

His father was looking out the window at a fierce summer storm with disgust and exasperation. He spoke over his shoulder to his wife and son. "Why did it choose this afternoon to storm? We can't go swimming and now Moony is going on a mission for Dumbledore and the Order and Wormtail has disappeared again to take care of his sick mother. Do we actually know what's wrong with the woman that she needs his care so often?"

Lily looked up from the book she was engrossed in and speculated. "Peter has never actually said what's wrong with her. She is a Muggle, so I suspect cancer of some kind. It is a terrible wasting disease that makes a person very ill for a very long time before they usually die slowly. If that is what is wrong with her, it would make sense for Peter to be so busy with her. I know his father is dead and he was an only child so there might not be anyone else. And nursing care in the Muggle world is horribly expensive so Peter couldn't afford much."

James just grumbled under his breath as he conceded to his wife's argument. "I know Lilikins, but it doesn't make it easier to find out why Harry dislikes them both so much. I would just feel easier if we knew who to trust these days." He ran a hair through his already messy hair and come over to sit down next to his son. He smiled at the boy's bright grinning face and tickled his belly. As Harry giggled happily, James handed him his favorite shape sorting toy, dumping out the brightly colored plastic shapes into the child's lap before turning to his wife once more.

"Have you found the 'fidelius' yet? I was hoping to have it cast and all of us secure by the next full moon."

Lily put the book she had been studying down into her lap and sighed deeply. "Yes, and I will have it figured out soon. Even sooner if you take little Harry and go entertain yourselves somewhere else so that I can work in peace and quiet." She said exasperation evident in her tone of voice.

James got a very fake hurt look on his face before scooping up his son and stomping theatrically out of the room. "Come child, we know when we aren't wanted. Let's go make some lovely chocolate biscuits and tea and not share any with the women folks." He managed to keep from laughing as Lily threw a couch pillow at his retreating back.

* * *

Amelia looked out tiredly over the madly swarming mass of reporters and Ministry workers that filled the Atrium at the Ministry of Magic. 'Merlin's Tits how I hate the political jockeying and kissing arse that go along with this job. Now why exactly did I accept the position?' She straightened her shoulders, dropped her monocle down on its frayed ribbon and cleared her throat for attention. The group took its own time in settling down until Kingsley shot out a loud clap of thunder at the ceiling. She nodded wordlessly at the tall, black Auror in appreciation before grasping the podium with both hands.

She looked out around the now silent group, measuring the attitude of the crowd. 'Are they likely to turn into a mob or stay peaceful?' She asked herself before casting a "Sonorous" charm on herself before beginning her prepared speech.

"Gentle Witches and Wizards, as you all know, the former Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge was found this morning after being kidnapped on Saturday afternoon from the hospital wing at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Although he appears to be in fairly good health considering his kidnapping and subsequent torture at the hands of Voldemort and his followers," She smiled in satisfaction at seeing the violent shudders her calm mention of the evil Dark Lord's name had wrought in the group before continuing. "his lack of mental stability secondary to that torture has made his permanent retirement for health reasons necessary. I have been confirmed by an emergency meeting of the Wizengamot as the new Minister for Magic for the remaining five years of his office. After the events of the kidnapping were investigated, a number of disturbing and downright horrifying occurrences have come to light. Not only were all of the former Death Eaters who had been cleared by claiming the use of the 'Imperious' curse found to be guilty, but several upstanding members of the Wizengamot were charged and found guilty of accepting bribes. Nineteen current members of the Ministry itself have been convicted of accepting bribes, fraud, blackmail, and even treason. They are being replaced by thoroughly vetted replacements as we speak." She looked around at the shell shocked group and smiled in satisfaction.

Now for the next shock…"Also, the case of Sirius Black has been reopened and examined in light of evidence that was deliberately repressed and falsified. Not only is he cleared of all charges, it has been proven that Peter Pettigrew was the Potter's secret keeper, Pettigrew framed Black for the murder of thirteen Muggles and cut off his own finger before transforming into a rat animagus and escaping down the sewers to live in hiding for the last thirteen years. He was instrumental in the rebirth of Voldemort last June and is considered to be the evil wizard's right hand man. Black was not and never has been a marked or unmarked follower of Voldemort."

The group in the Atrium was so silent that their collective breathing was the only sound over the swish of the huge fountain. Amelia looked back toward the shadowed hallway behind her and nodded at the dark figure hiding within it.

A cleaned up, aristocratically dressed and coiffed Sirius Black stepped out, any sign of hesitation or fear carefully masked. He strode firmly and confidently out to stand beside Minister Bones. The two looked out over the totally gobsmacked audience and shared equally evil smirks.

Amelia took Sirius' right hand into her own and shook it firmly while leaning forward and whispering into his ear. "Do you want to address them at all?" She nodded her understanding of the small negative shake of his head before letting go of his hand and turning back to the podium. She leaned forward on one arm and crossed her leg at the ankle at a studied posture of indifferent ease before beginning to speak again. "The Ministry of Magic has cleared Sirius Orion Black of all charges and has issued a formal apology to him, all his rights and privileges are hereby reinstated including but not limited to his regency and guardianship of Harry James Potter. He has received a sum equaling his Aurors pay for each of the years he was incarcerated as well as punitive damages in an unspecified amount. I am also pleased to announce that Albus Dumbledore has offered the now vacant position of Defense Against the Dark Arts position to Mister Black and that he has graciously accepted that appointment."

Sirius couldn't help the huge grin that split his face at the absolute shock now evident on everyone's faces as the Marauder in him was relishing his new status. He didn't hear the last of Minister Bone's speech but he did rejoin reality when he recognized the group was now shouting questions at the two of them.

"Have you found Harry Potter and Severus Snape yet? Or the Malfoy heir?"

"Have you caught Pettigrew? Or any of the other Death Eaters?"

"So what Potter said about the Tri-Wizard tournament was true after all and he wasn't an attention seeking mental case?"

Madame Bones signaled for quiet once more as she glared at the loudly yelling audience.

"Yes, Mr. Potter and Professor Snape have been located, but for now their location will remain secret. Mr. Potter is recovering from his injuries inflicted by Draco Malfoy. No, Mr. Malfoy has not been found, nor do we have any clues as to where he might be. Mrs. Malfoy is unavailable for questioning at this time. And yes, Mr. Potter accurately reported the events at the ill fated third task of the Tri-Wizard tournament. That is all today, good afternoon." With that she turned abruptly, motioning for Sirius to follow her, and stalked out and down the dark corridor behind them.

* * *

Harry still slept on, blissfully unaware of the turmoil that had beset the wizarding world after his unmitigated attack by Draco. He snuggled deeper into the most comfortable bed he had ever slept on, of course with only the miserly accommodations provided by the Dursleys, the school issued four poster bed, and a cot in Ron's room he didn't have much to compare it with. But he relished the satin comfort of the fine sheets, the gentle smell of freshly aired beddings and drifted deeper into sleep.

He realized he was sitting in a large pen with Neville Longbottom, surrounded by mountains of toys while his mother and Alice Longbottom sipped tea and talked together on a long red leather couch. Neville had a rubber dog in his mouth, chewing happily on its snout as drool dribbled down his chin and into the fuzzy bib he had on. Harry looked around and picked up a cloth book to pretend to look at while listening to the women's conversation.

"So we have the 'fidelius' all ready to cast on the night of the new moon. I am still not happy that James let Sirius talk him into letting Peter be the secret keeper but I don't have any evidence to convince them otherwise. They have decided that Moony is the traitor because of all of his contact with the other werewolves but I still get the creeps around Peter. Unfortunately nothing that I can prove, but a mother's intuition and of course the guys all discount that."

"I wish I could convince Frank that we need to go into hiding too, but he and his mother won't hear any arguments about it. I don't know which of them is the most stubborn. It makes me want to pull my hair out and scream sometimes but I do love Frank and I know he wouldn't knowingly do anything to put either Neville or me into danger. But still, I didn't trust the looks of the ward master that Mrs. Longbottom hired. I don't trust him at all not to have done something funny to them."

"You know I've found men are all the same, Muggle or Wizard. Too stubborn to listen to anything they don't want to hear. But were would we be without them?"

"Much more peaceful?" Alice laughed and Lily joined in for a few short minutes before the atmosphere became tense once more.

"Alice, I need to share some things with you…you know…in case something happens. I have a very bad feeling about the future. You know that I'm not really a muggle born and that my real mother had some seer ability…at least about her own family. When my twin brother and I were born our father was out of the country on his 'Lord's' business so she took me and hid me in a muggle orphanage and let my father think that Severus was the only baby born that day. When she died in our fourth year, a time delayed letter was delivered to me that explained everything and begged for my understanding and forgiveness."

Alice didn't look surprised at the news, so Harry suspected she had heard the story before but he hadn't. Did that make Severus Snape his uncle? His mother's twin brother? He fell over in shock but the two women were too engrossed in their conversation to notice. Just as he was wiggling to sit upright once more, he felt a soft slap on his cheek forcing him into wakefulness and away from the very important conversation. Screaming "No!" he looked up into the startled black eyes of his Uncle Severus Snape.

* * *

AN: Sorry for the long delay in writing but I have been busy and my muse went into hibernation for some reason. I wanted to get this up and out before I move on Tuesday. I will be packing up everything this weekend and then moving to the new house so it will take a while to get everything unpacked and the internet up once more. Thank you for your patience and understanding. I particularly appreciate all those who have signed up for author alerts and favorite story alerts and especially those that take the time and effort to leave a review. 


	10. Chapter 10: Revelations

Nightmares and Daydreams

By Teacherbev

AN: Sorry it's been so long but RL has again jumped up and hit me. In the middle of the move from hell, some idiot crashed into my car so I have been dealing with repair shops, rental cars, doctors and insurance agents. Then I found that my mother, who moved in with me, moved absolutely everything. I mean who need a huge box full of old plastic margarine containers and twelve hot water bottles, including several that leak? Then I stabbed myself with a sharp knife while cutting up a potato and had stitches in the palm of my left hand. They are out now but the whole outside of my left hand is numb and it's very painful to type more than a paragraph or two at a time. Well, enough whining, on with the story.

Chapter 10: Revelations

Severus Snape was brooding. It was something that he was rather good at as he had spent an inordinate amount of time in his life perfecting the art. It was galling to have to take care of the poisoned boy and yet it really wasn't Potter's fault that he had been injured, at least not this time. Every other time he had been forced to step in and save the brat's life, the idiotic Gryffindor had directly contributed to his own peril by his own thoughtless and impulsive acts, well not the time that the possessed Quirrel had hexed his broomstick, but every other time. And like that time in first year, this time he had been playing Quidditch and doing exactly what he was supposed to be doing. And Snape didn't like that. It was supposed to be the boy's impulsive and totally asinine Gryffindor nature that should have gotten him in trouble, not the ill planned and idiotic actions of one of his Slytherins. Not only was he responsible for the total care of the dunderhead now lying asleep on the bed in front of him, he was responsible for the imbecile who put him here! And if that wasn't bad enough, it was singularly unsatisfying to berate and harangue someone who was totally incapable of responding. And so he was brooding as he waited for Potter to once again wake up.

He had spent most of the morning researching through the magnificent Potter Manor library and had sent Tippy with a long list of ingredients to procure as well as a letter to Gringotts authorizing the ancient elf to access his vault as needed for supplies. He was taking a chance in sending the elf, he still wasn't very comfortable with anyone knowing where he and the Potter brat were while the boy remained so vulnerable, but the odds of a current Death Eater recognizing an old Potter family elf were so slim as to be infinitesimal. And he knew the goblins of Gringotts would allow no one near enough to overhear another's conversation so his written permission would be safe. But being overly paranoid had saved his life on more that one occasion over the years and he wasn't willing to give up on his precautions any time soon.

So as he sat and brooded, his dark eyes hooded as he watched the sleeping boy for any signs of returning consciousness, Snape plotted and planned his next moves.

* * *

Harry hadn't been willing to leave the conversation between his mother and Neville's but Snape had woken him up, or maybe Fawkes had done it, but either way he certainly hadn't been willing to awaken and leave that conversation. So when he felt himself drifting toward the house in Godric's Hollow once more, he focused on rejoining that afternoon once more. He wasn't sure he had any control over when or what he witnessed during these episodes, but he was willing to try his damnedest to return and listen in to the rest of that conversation. He heaved an internal sigh when he realized he had returned to the same afternoon after all.

Harry absentmindedly bashed a couple of soft plastic blocks together to hide his interest in the quiet conversation between his and Neville's mothers. Neville had dropped the spit covered dog and was now chewing on the corner of a plastic car, happily gurgling to himself as he chewed.

"So Lily, I know that James still doesn't like Severus. How are you going to get him to allowed Snape to raise Harry if something happens to you?"

"I gave in when he named Sirius as Harry's Godfather and I do love the man, it's just that he's so impulsive and immature. I am afraid that Harry would grow up a total hellion with no boundaries whatsoever if Sirius had total control over my son's life. Severus never does anything impulsive and he would be the best to be in charge of Harry's day to day life with Sirius as the fun-loving Uncle that keeps life fun. Hopefully, Sirius can keep Severus from being too stern and unyielding and Severus can tone down some of Sirius' worst impulsive behaviors." Lily reached over and refilled her tea cup, silently lifting it up in a nonverbal question to her best friend.

"Thanks, Lil." Alice held her cup out to be refilled as she continued. "Too bad you can't blend them both into one person. That would be perfect!"

Lily smiled wistfully, "That's exactly what James became once he grew up a little. With both James and Remus influencing Sirius, I have hopes the man might eventually grow up but I'm just so afraid there won't be enough time before something happens." She put down her teacup and reached for Alice's hand. "I must tell you of the plans we have put into effect…you know…just in case…" her voice faded as both women grew thoughtful, contemplating the horrors that might befall their little families in the near future.

Lily walked over to her desk and pulled out the top right side drawer. She then reached her arm in to the back of the hole and made an odd movement. A click sounded and the bookshelf beside her desk moved away from the wall just a crack. Lily grabbed the left hand side where it stood closest to her desk and pulled it towards herself. The bookshelf swung away from the wall like a door opening and Alice stood up quickly, her curiosity fully aroused.

"What…how did you do that?"

"There's something called a 'remote control' fixed to the back of my desk. It's kind of a small black plastic box with a single button on it. I stole this one from my sister's disgusting whale of a husband's garage door opener." She giggled softly as she thought of how long and hard the disgusting man might have to look to find his precious gadget.

"I thought you had nothing to do with them. I remember some of the letters she sent to you at school. Is she still calling you a 'freak' and threatening to hurt you if you ever show up around her house?"

"Yeah and she's even worse now that she and blubber man had a boy. Uggh, the mental picture that brings to mind, not only did she have to touch that flobberworm, she had to let him touch her."

"Yecch, Lily! Now I won't be able to eat all day. Why'd you have to conjure that mental image for me?" A decidedly green cast showed on Alice's slightly pudgy face at the thought.

"I really didn't want to but Dumbledore insisted that I find out where they live and then leave a trunk full of things for their son in the attic. He said it was just in case their son turned out to be a wizard. Can you believe that 'Tunia named her son Dudley Dursley? And she says she's the normal one? I don't believe Dumbledore for a moment but I really can't figure out what he is doing. That man is so manipulative that I don't think he has had a single straight thought in the last century. And I know that he hasn't given a straight answer to any question harder we've asked than what he wants to eat for his next meal to us. It's gotten so that I hate to see him coming through the door."

Alice was nodding her head in agreement as she peeked around her friend's shoulder trying to look into the black recess behind the now open bookcase. "I know what you mean. He's the only one that can ruffle Frank's mother. She was actually muttering curses under her breathe the last time he came to visit. She was trying to get more information out of him about that bloody prophecy but he just talked around in circles. Well enough about him, what happened when you went to your sisters?" She clutched her hands together as she leaned over the desk, anticipation evident in every muscle.

"Not much, they were all asleep. I just snuck in and up the attic. I put the trunk that Dumbledore insisted I leave there, cast a few notice me not and muggle repelling spells and snuck back out. But I couldn't resist stealing the remote control from the dash of his car when I left. I had already found this space behind the bookshelf and I knew I needed something to lock it that no Death Eater would be able to figure out."

Alice giggled softly, "You've got that right. No self respecting Death Eater would even touch that thing. It might contaminate their fingers to come in contact with something 'plastic' you know. Frank's mother is almost as bad, I still don't understand how Frank grew up to be so mellow and laid back with his domineering and utterly prim and proper mother."

Lily shared a laugh, "I know what you mean. James had to get away from his Mum and Dad to grow up. I think his Mum would still be cutting up his sandwiches and wiping his face after his finishes his lunch if they hadn't died. Sometimes I wonder if I would have ever liked him at all if his parents hadn't passed away." She sobered down and the conversation became more serious once more as they turned back to the space behind the bookcase.

Harry stood up in the corner of the playpen, stretching his neck as far as possible to be able to see past the two blocking his view of the dark alcove. Luckily his Mum opened the bookcase wider then and waved her wand at a couple of wall sconces to light the gas torches, illuminating a small room, actually little more than an oversized closet, with a bookcase from floor to ceiling on one wall, a series of shelves crammed with boxes, bags and stacks of interesting things on the other two walls.

Harry couldn't really see what was in the small room very well, but he could hear the conversation between the two witches clearly over Neville's soft and happy humming noises.

"We put all of our research in here to keep it safe. This room has so many spells on it that even if the house falls, it will survive. This is all of James' intelligence on the workings of Voldemort's inner circle, bank records, surveillance evidence…"

"What's that and how did you manage to get the records from the goblins?" Alice asked curiously, sometimes she understood Lily's muggle references after spending seven years in the same dorm, but sometimes she was still clueless.

"Death Eaters are stupid when it comes to muggle technology. James has managed to insert small microphones into the pockets of some of the suspected Death Eaters with a switching spell and used these big reels of tape here to keep track of their conversations. And he has all kinds of muggle photos, the wizarding kind is so much bigger and so they aren't looking for a small cassette camera. And you knew that James is the Heir of Gryffindor since his father died didn't you?" At Alice's nod, Lily continued, "Well, that has a lot of clout with the goblins. It seems that they had a treaty with the Gryffindor clan long before our Ministry of Magic even existed and since no Gryffindor has ever broken it, they still honor it. Godric Gryffindor led his personal liegemen into battle to help a besieged goblin enclave and drove off the enemy and the leader of the tribe and Godric swore blood brotherhood and that mutual defense treaty still stands."

"You mean James will be able to get the goblins to help against You-Know-Who?"

"Not openly, no. But if he formally requests their assistance as the legitimate Heir of Gryffindor they will help him as much as they can without directly going against the Ministry. They aren't anywhere near as dumb as most wizards think they are. They are really quite crafty and very astute, especially concerning things that will benefit or harm their society. So no matter what Voldemort promises if they will follow him, they know he is lying and would just use them before destroying them. And they don't trust the Ministry at all; they keep trying to take away more and more rights. You would think those idiots at the Ministry would know you don't make allies by classifying sentient beings as animals."

Alice gave a slightly rueful snort as she agreed with her best friend's assessment. "Sometimes you wonder if it wouldn't be better if the Ministry collapsed and we just started over. Of course I wouldn't have even begun to think that way without you teaching me all about how muggles and muggleborns are so discriminated against by the wizarding world instead of that useless rubbish they pass off as Muggle Studies. I guess we just think that that's how it's always been, so that's the way things should be."

Harry could see his mother got close enough to the other woman to give her a squeezing hug before they separated once more. "Well, we surely got off topic here didn't we? Well, all of this is things that will work against the Death Eaters, you know, things inspired from muggle technology. We were so bored when we first came here that I started asking James about why wizards didn't have magical equivalents of some of the muggle weapons and he didn't even know what I was talking about. And when I finally explained it he got really excited and started designing all kinds of things to use. Unfortunately he hasn't been able to convince anyone in the Magical Law Enforcement department to even give him an appointment to come in and show them what he's developed."

Alice tipped a large box off a shelf and looked inside at the small individually wrapped globes.

"Careful, Alice. Those spell globes are filled with a powerful sleeping agent that has to have a specific antidote to counter!"

Alice turned and raised an eyebrow in question after pushing the box safely back onto the shelf. "How does that work?"

"Well, you just have to toss them to explode on contact and spread the potion as a gas, like a cloud or you can place them carefully all over a room or area and then set them to a trigger word so that they all explode when you say it. James is working on a delay time spell so that you have enough time to get away and not put yourself to sleep with your enemies but he hasn't managed it yet."

"That is so wicked! What else is in here?"

"Well, this is a box full of healing potions that have been dried, powdered and then packed into muggle capsules so that you can carry them with you. And these are things that we are working on to set up instant anti-portkey and apparition wards when you tap them with a wand to activate them. Sirius and James are working on them so that they are keyed to a specific word or wand so that if the bad guys get a hold of them they can't be used against us. Remus is researching other spells that will break through those same wards or even stronger warding spells to see if they can be adapted to a device. Can you imagine how many lives could be saved if the Aurors could wear an arm band that allows them to escape through the wards the Death Eaters set up in ambushes?"

Alice had to lean against the bookshelf as the ramifications of such a device hit her. "That would be so wonderful…and you can't get the Ministry to even look at your inventions?"

"Well, James has a reputation as a pranking goof-off and then he had the audacity to marry a mudblood…" her voice trailed off as she let Alice draw her own inevitable conclusion.

Alice nodded in understanding. "And the bigots at the Ministry are so stuck in their traditions and the sanctity of the wizarding culture that they won't even consider something based upon the savage muggles."

Lily sighed as she ushered her friend out of the small alcove and pushed the bookshelf back until an audible click sounded loudly in the room. "Yeah, well, their insistence on keeping everything muggle out of their world will end one way or another. Unfortunately I'm beginning to believe it will be after Voldemort wins."

As the two picked up their sons out of the playpen, Harry reached up his arms around his mother's neck and gave her a big hug with a sloppy kiss. She smiled softly down at him and patted his back as he snuggled his head down into the crook of her neck.

"Oh, I almost forgot. If anything happens to us Alice, all of the information on our research and our wills and the information that James and Sirius insisted that the little rat be our secret keeper instead of Remus like I wanted is in there as well as all of my journals and the documentation that I was able to get proving that Severus is my twin brother and that neither one of us are Snapes. I can't believe that bastard killed our real father after mother conceived us and then tricked her into marrying him. It's too bad that miserable bastard was able to shoot our real father and then blackmail mother into staying and not hurting him by keeping her drugged and cowed."

"I don't think you've ever told me the whole story before Lily. Can you tell me now that we are in hiding or are you still too afraid about people finding out about you and Severus?"

Lily sighed and used her wand to refill the teapot. She put Harry down onto the floor with a teething biscuit and turned to her friend. It looked like she was having an argument with herself before she nodded her head, resolution showing in her beautiful green eyes as she began to speak.

"I guess I really want someone else to know the whole story. But you have to give me an oath that you won't tell anyone while there is still danger to everyone involved."

Alice sat Neville down beside her and pulled her wand out. "I promise on my life and my magic not to reveal anything that Lilly Potter tells me today until it is safe to do so or she releases me from this promise." A swirl of magic engulfed the two before sinking into their skins. As she put her wand back away, Lily took a deep breath, clasped her hands together in nervousness and began.

"Okay, I'll just begin at how I found out and just wait until later to ask questions please."

At the blonde's nod Lily made a rueful face and then looked down at her hands. "Well, I got a letter from my birth mother that was sent to me after she died when Severus and I were in our fifth year. In it she explained about how her first husband had been murdered by a muggle outside of the Leaky Cauldron and how the muggle police though it was a mugging because they couldn't find any identification or wallet on him after he was shot but she never believed it. She thought her current husband had murdered her husband because he wanted her but she didn't suspect him until it was too late. She had been pregnant when her husband was murdered and then she met this very charming muggle man named Tobias Snape who took care of everything and just seemed so wonderful. She didn't explain how she met him or how he knew about magic so I have no clue. Of course her family disowned her when she married a filthy muggle but she didn't care because she thought she loved him so much and that he loved her."

She looked up and met the soft and sympathetic blue eyes that were watching her so intently. "And then everything changed. She found out he was dosing her with lsd in the 'vitamins' he had made her take every day. And she couldn't get away because she was pregnant, disowned and addicted to the drugs. But she managed to have her twins when he was on a three day drunken binge and convinced the midwife to take the baby girl away and leave her at a muggle orphanage. She didn't dare do anything to help Severus but since she hadn't known she was having twins and we were several weeks early she thought it would be safe to send me away. She told me it almost broke her heart but she was afraid he would molest me in ways he wouldn't a boy."

Alice moved closer and put a comforting arm around Lily's shoulders. "At least you know he wasn't your real father Lily and she did protect you from him."

Lily's smile barely touched her lips as she gathered herself to continue. "Yeah, but he made Severus life hell and kept our mother browbeaten and drugged until she finally died. She told me not to grieve for her…that she was finally free and able to rejoin her first husband who had truly loved her and been a wonderful man."

The two sat in silence for several long minutes while Harry was almost holding his breath, hoping his mother would forget he was sitting there and continue with her startling revelations. "The way Severus was treated, it's no wonder he fell under that git Malfoy's influence. It was just too bad I didn't find out soon enough to be able to tell Severus. If only I had been able to tell him that's why he felt drawn to me and was so jealous of James. I never was able to tell him that I love him and that I will always love my brother even if we weren't raised together. But I don't dare tell him, if Voldemort or any of his followers found out they would kill him. And I can't do that to him…not until the bastard is dead and can't hurt him." She looked sadly down at her hand and spoke so softly that Harry had a hard time hearing her even sitting just at her feet. "I just hope he will listen and forgive me."

Alice handed Lily a handkerchief to wipe her eyes and dry her tears as she kept a strong arm around her in comfort.

"Do you know who your real father is? Did your mother tell you?"

Lily nodded and spoke softly. "Yes but his family doesn't even know about us. My father had left the Leaky Cauldron to go and get a bottle of muggle champagne to take to his parents that night. They were on their way to tell them they were going to be grandparents. And then he was murdered and Eileen was so distraught she didn't know where she was or who she was with until it was too late. Tobias never left her out of his sight long enough to contact them and then she was too afraid to admit to them what had happened. She said Tobias threatened to kill Severus in front of her if she ever told anyone."

"Well, tell me Lily, I'm dying of curiosity." Alice was almost bouncing in anticipation. "Do I know your grandparents? And do they know about you?"

"You do know them but they don't know about Severus and me. It would break their hearts to know about Severus now that he is a Death Eater and I can't tell them about me without telling them about him."

Harry began to feel funny as the two continued to sit quietly for a moment. And just as he was being pulled toward consciousness he could still hear his mother saying, "My mother's parents were…"

Harry blinked his eyes open against the brightness of the room he was in and tried to scream "NO!" at Snape but all that came out was a loud moan of frustration.

* * *

AN: Okay, don't kill me or I can't type any more. And I would be curious to hear your guesses. Have I made it too obvious or to obscure? Who do you want Lily and Severus' parents to be? Thank you again for continuing to read even if this has taken me forever to update. 


	11. Chapter 11: The Long Uphill Road Begins

Nightmares and Daydreams

Nightmares and Daydreams

By Teacherbev

AN: I can't believe it's been so long since I have posted anything on this story. It is now official, I hate the new Vista. I had a fatal error on my old computer and lost everything on the hard drive. I had to save up to buy a new CPU, but now I have a super fast, 350 gig HP and my wonderful nephew-in-law was able to salvage my data off of the old hard drive after I sent it back to him in Renton. (He's a leader of a software development team for a major company there). But now I have to learn Vista and it won't do what I want it to do and it keeps losing my files for me until I get so frustrated with the dang thing that all I want to do with it is play Spider Solitaire!

I have three new story ideas bouncing around within my skull but I refuse to allow myself to begin a new story until I have finished the ones already begun but the new ideas keep popping up and interfering with me. So, please forgive me for the long wait and here's Chapter 11.

AN: Revised on 4/26/08 to correct errors.

Chapter 11: The Long Uphill Road Begins

"Come on Potter…you need to wake up…open your eyes…" the voice was annoying and grated upon Harry's already frazzled nerves but it was so insistent that he was having a very hard time ignoring it.

"Open your eyes…I know you can hear me, your pulse and respiration have changed so I know that you are waking up…." The voice was agonizingly familiar and yet something was missing from it. Harry fought through the fuzziness that filled his skull and tried to analyze what exactly was wrong with the voice that he almost recognized.

'Oh, yeah…that's Snape…knife…Malfoy…poison….' His thoughts remained muddy but were getting clearer with each moment that passed. 'Hmmm, sounds different though…what is it…something's missing…' as he peeled his eyes open, squinting through the accumulated gunk that was gluing his eyelashes together he realized exactly what was so wrong with his most hated professors voice. 'He sounds almost pleasant…where's the hatred and the bitterness?'

"Gnnnah…" he managed to squeeze out around his numb lips and swollen and dry tongue.

A deep chuckle greeted his efforts followed by a smirking, "Articulate as ever, Potter."

'Ah, now I recognize that voice. That's much better. I thought that the world was coming to an end for a moment.'

"Here, don't try to talk. Just swallow a few sips of water for me." The feel of a plastic straw against his lips made him open his mouth reflexively, eager to assuage his burning thirst.

"Slow down, Potter, the water's not going anywhere. No need to choke yourself to death and waste all of my work at brewing the antidote for you." Snape removed the straw from the boy's lips and reached over to take the warm wet flannel that Tippy was holding out for him. He swiped the boy's face down, taking care to clean the boy's gummy lashes so that he could open his eyes fully. Harry made noises of approval as his face lost much of its dried and crusty sweat and his lashes were freed from the accumulated gunk.

Snape handed back the flannel in trade for the glasses being held out and placed them gently on Harry's face. He flipped each earpiece making sure the boy's ears weren't being pinched any and then slipped his arm behind his shoulders, holding him steady while the little elf placed pillows behind him to hold the boy upright.

Snape sat down on the edge of the large bed and unconsciously straightened out the thick dark blue comforter, tucking it up around the thin shoulders tightly so the boy wouldn't catch a cold on top of everything else.

"Are you in pain, Potter?" Snape raised one eyebrow in question and waited patiently for some response. "Remember, one blink for yes, two for no."

Harry blinked once for yes and then wondered if he was telling Snape yes that he remembered the blink system or yes that he was in pain. It really didn't matter to him as both were true.

"Can you manage to swallow some potions for me then? They are much more efficient taken internally than applied to your skin."

Harry blinked once deliberately and then opened his mouth slightly to let the potions master know that he had understood him and was willing to try.

Luckily Snape fed him the three different potions with a large tablespoon and waited patiently in between each mouthful for Harry to swallow and then regain his breath. He seemed to be having an extraordinarily hard time just managing to breath by himself. He sounded to his own ears as if he was a fish gasping for air on dry land but maybe he was just really sensitive to his own breathing.

Snape frowned at the irregular gasps and gurgles coming from the boy. He would need to do something to ease his chest muscles or the boys intercostals would cramp and he would be unable to breathe at all. "Tippy, fetch the large black satchel from the potions lab please. And I need you to check the potions storehouse for any Matricaria recutita and Astragalus membranaceus for a tincture to help his breathing. They are efficacious for pneumonia and asthma so they should provide some relief in this instance."

"Tippy will be going now, Master Snape. Tippy knows that Mistress Lily kept both in stock and we's has kept her supplies fresh and ready for the Masters return." The elderly elf bowed low and left the room with a snap of his fingers and a muffled crack of sound.

Snape nodded absentmindedly to the disappearing elf and pulled his long ebony wand from his wrist holder to levitate the boy while he removed the pillows from the bed. With a flick, the mattress hardened while a small indentation appeared for the boy's face. He used his left hand to pull the thick duvet and the sheets off of the floating child and then rolled him over and placed him face down on the hardened mattress, carefully making sure that his mouth and nose lined up with the indentation.

Harry panicked as he felt Snape first float him up toward the ceiling and then rolled him over. He gasped involuntarily as the covers were pulled from his body, making goose bumps appear as the colder air of the room seeped through the thin cotton pajamas he was dressed in. He could see the edges of his vision begin to tunnel inward before his entire face was buried face down in the bed. 'Was Snape trying to suffocate him…?' He tried desperately to manage some movement, forcing his body to respond, to flip himself over somehow, the bloody git was trying to murder him, and all he could do was lay limp and helpless and allow the filthy death eater to succeed!

Snape took note of the shivers running up and down the skinny body and the labored breathing as he laid the boy face downward. He sat down on the bed, his body making no indentation in the firm mattress. He ran one hand down the back, using his voice and the long deliberately paced strokes of his hand to force the boy to calm down.

"Calm down you idiot, you are not suffocating. If I wanted you dead I would have never brewed the antidote! Calm down at once you insufferable child! Just feel my hand and breathe in and out with it. Out as I stroke downward, in as I stroke upward…that's it, calm down now, and listen to me for once in your misbegotten life. I am simply going to apply a muscle relaxer to your back so that you can breathe easier. Surely, even an imbecilic Gryffindor like you can understand such simple directions."

As he continued to stroke up and down his spine, Harry began to breathe in time to the long strokes. In and out…in and out…the panic began to recede and his brain managed to get enough oxygen to process what Snape had said. He felt his temper begin to flare as his frustration with being unable to respond grew. His cheeks flushed and his hands clenched without him even noticing that he had been able to move them.

Snape noted the calmed breathing and then the involuntary tenseness as he felt the boy's anger begin to seep off of him in waves of palpable magic. His hand stopped involuntarily as he recognized the likelihood that the boy he had always thought off as useless and barely adequate as a wizard might someday, and someday soon, be as strong as the Dark Lord or even …he took a sharp breath in…Dumbledore! He closed his eyes and forced all emotion behind his mental shields before the long sure strokes began again.

"Breathe deep, blow the anger out with each breath. That's right. Let it all flow out as you calm your mind. Relax and let yourself go limp. Think of flying, not a Quidditch game, but just flying for fun. The air whipping past your face, the feeling of the sunlight on your back, free with not a care in the world as you fly through a cloudless spring sky."

Snape leaned back as he felt the boy relax beside him, using his wand to remove the boy's pajamas; he almost gasped at the sight of fine lines criss-crossing the almost skeletal body beside him. He had noticed them earlier but in the sheer effort and tense brewing to save the boy's life he had forgotten them, and they stood out much clearer now in the light of day than they had before. The lines were thin and white with age, but he could tell that they had been made at many different times as they showed many different layers and degrees of fading. He tentatively reached out a hand to trace several of them with a single finger, making the bare skin quiver at the touch.

Snape drew back his hand as if he had been scalded. "How did you get these marks, boy? Who did this to you?" He had grabbed one thin shoulder and flipped the boy roughly onto his back, his need for answers overriding his concern for the boy's comfort and delicate medical state. He was angry at himself for forgetting about them earlier and channeled some of that anger into his voice. His eyebrows almost meeting in the middle, rage making his eyes bright and penetrating, Snape demanded once more, "Who did this to you?"

Harry opened his mouth, trying to make his unresponsive tongue make any kind of a coherent response. He tried to make himself smaller, involuntarily responding to his inbred need to present a smaller target for his Uncle and Cousin if at all possible. He recognized the incoherent rage and almost uncontrollable anger having seen it on Uncle Vernon's face too many times before in his young life to be able to differentiate between rage at him and rage for him.

"Unghh…unghh…" Was all that he managed to force out before Snape lost all control and shouted "Legillimens!" his wand shaking slightly in his anger as it pointed directly between Potter's eyes from less than two inches away.

* * *

Amelia Bones used her left foot to toe off her right shoe before using the right foot to do the same to the left. Her tired and swollen feet ached and throbbed in time to her heartbeat. She let out a deep sigh as she dropped her head into her hands and then let her whole body slump forward, dropping the entire top half of her body onto her parchment strewn desk. She reached up her hands and grabbed both hands full of her graying hair and yanked in frustration. She looked sideways through her arms to note who had just entered her office before sighing deeply once more.

"Remind me again, Shack…exactly why did I want this job?" She pulled her arms from under her head and banged her forehead on the thick blotter several times before straightening up and then stretching; making her back pop loudly as several vertebrae noisily released the pressure.

"You know you love it, Amelia. Just wait till all this mess with Fudge is straightened out and you can begin to chart your own course. I know you…you complain a lot, but you'd rather take charge and make it better for everyone than play the petty politics that you have been for the last seven years under that imbecilic and corrupt Fudge. And I know that you thoroughly enjoyed sacking Umbridge, Cooper, and Smythe and don't you try to deny it!"

Amelia smiled and her eyes lit up despite the tiredness in them. "True, oh so true you are. Now, what brings you to my office at this god forsaken hour?" She glanced at the ornate timepiece hanging between the two floor-to-ceiling windows that comprised the wall opposite her desk. She didn't spare a single thought to the fact that she was several floors below ground level so the windows would not exist if not for the magic in them as she noted the hands pointed to just after two am. She dropped her monocle and rubbed both eyes with the heels of her hands. She startled slightly to feel something warm and smooth bump her arm and glanced to find a sturdy mug of hot tea in Kingsley's hand. She reached up and took it, taking a big swig of the perfectly doctored hot sweet brew and settled back into her chair with a sigh of satisfaction.

Kingsley sat down in one of the visitor's tall and ornate leather chairs and took a big gulp of his own coffee. He had been raised on his father's own love of strong Jamaican coffee and never understood his colleague's fanatical love for the much weaker English tea. Strong, hot and black with enough caffeine to jolt an elephant awake, that's the proper way to brew a drink, he mused as he waited for the tea to revitalize his boss so that she could actually listen and make sense of his report.

Amelia took another swig of tea before setting the welcome mug down onto her desk and folded her hands together, looking expectantly at her second in command with a much more wide awake expression than just moments before.

"Okay, Shak, I'm back amongst the living. Thank you by the way, I doubt that I will even attempt sleep tonight. There is just way too much flotsam and jetsam from Fudge and his cronies to deal with, and time is too critical to waste on sleep at this juncture."

Kingsley nodded and pulled a thick roll of parchment out of a pocket of his rumpled red Auror robe and unrolled it. He cleared his throat with a small cough and began.

"First…the Potter boy. No one knows exactly where he is but I have it on firm authority from Dumbledore himself that the boy is still alive and in a safe location. It was indeed, nervulus veneficium that he was poisoned with, but Snape managed to brew both a revealing potion and an antidote in time so the boy will live. I may hate that greasy git but I have to admit the son of a bitch sure knows his way around a cauldron." At Amelia's nod of agreement, he continued without pausing. "For now, Snape and Potter will remain in hiding since the boy will require very extensive treatments to recover and they would both be vulnerable to attack if they returned to either St. Mungo's or Hogwarts."

He took a swig of coffee, grimacing at the swiftly cooling liquid and continued reading from his notes. "The passive monitor we had on Malfoy Manor went off and the Aurors sent to investigate found it burning in several different locations with a magically enhanced fire. A quick scan showed that most of the rooms had been stripped down to nothing, although several of them reported hearing what sounded like screaming coming from the drawing room. They decided it must be Lucius' portrait burning since there were no life forms on the scan, not even a single house elf. It was decided on site to let the thing just burn to the ground since no one knew how booby-trapped the thing was and it wasn't worth anyone's life to stop the fires. All signs point to Narcissa Malfoy clearing out her Gringott's account and then leaving the country by Muggle means. We'll keep checking but she's not a priority at this point. Next, the sweep through the Wizengamot and the Ministry is complete. Everyone now has to clear through a Dark Mark detector that the Department of Mysteries developed at the end of the last war. Seems they have been trying to get Fudge to place them at every entrance for years and the scoundrel refused to grant permission, always saying something about unreliability and how someone's reputation could be besmirched by a false positive." He tried unsuccessfully to swallow his snort but gave up when Amelia added her own grunt of derision.

"All of the Wizengamot members have been replaced and thoroughly vetted for affiliations. If there was a suitable family member who could take the place they were sworn in, but anyone with questionable leanings was forced to swear an oath of loyalty that they do not now or will ever support the Dark Lord calling himself Voldemort. Amos Diggory has been moved up to be your deputy, as you recommended, and Arthur Weasley has accepted his post as Head of International Magical Cooperation. He recommended his assistant to take over his spot and his son Percy is taking Perkins place. After his brown nosing with Fudge and Umbridge, nobody else wanted him so he had his choice of Centaur Liaison or that. I think it was a wise choice, if Percy gets his head on straight, he might turn out fine. We haven't replace the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures but Albus Dumbledore suggested we might look at Remus Lupin, as a known werewolf it might make alliances with other species easier. It was a bit startling at first, but the more I think about it, the more I think it might just work out. He is a pureblood, got fantastic O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T.'s, and did a very creditable job as DADA Professor at Hogwarts before Snape outed him." He heated up his now cold tea with a wave of his wand and pulled another sheave of parchments out of his pocket.

"All of the arrest warrants have been served, at least the ones we could find. The first sweep got everyone since there was no prior notice, but we lost several on the secondary sweeps. We couldn't control all of the peripheral people and I assume spouses, family members and other interested parties sent out owls and floo calls almost before the last Auror left the premises. But the major players were all in the first sweep." He sighed deeply, "Except for that animal Greyback, we got them all. And every one of them has failed Veritaserum questioning and is now staying at the Goblin Hilton." He laughed, "I don't know who exactly came up with that name, but I do like it." His smile showed his bright white teeth as he leaned his head back and guffawed heartily.

The meeting continued on for over an hour as the two waded through the detritus left behind in the long awaited and eagerly anticipated death of the Fudge regime and even the unresolved mess from Barty Crouch. But by the end, the two were both satisfied with the new direction the Bones' administration was heading and the remarkable progress made in just two very long days.

* * *

Hermione and Ron sat at the Gryffindor breakfast table and tried to ignore the stares and whispers of the other students. Hermione had only managed a few bites before she started to stir the food left on her plate with a listless movement of her fork. Her shoulders were slouched in tiredness and her head rested in her left hand while her right hand moved her fork back and forth making patterns in her scramble. Ron looked equally tired but he still managed two large servings of breakfast, after all, it wouldn't help Harry any if he starved himself would it?

"So, did Dumbledore or McGonagall tell you any more about Harry?" Seamus' Irish brogue was even thicker than normal as he spoke around his own breakfast. The rest of the table shushed to hear the answer, and even the Ravenclaw table behind them still in anticipation.

"I told you before," Hermione began before the sound of a knife hitting a goblet sounded from the staff table, stilling the students into a sudden preternatural silence.

"Lest we have a plethora of rumors before the day is out, I shall share all of the pertinent information about our two missing students and potions professor at one time, as well as the former Minister of Magic. It is true that all four disappeared immediately following Saturday's horrific Quidditch match; however, the manner in which Mr. Potter and Professor Snape disappeared is much different than the manner that Mr. Malfoy and former Minister Fudge vanished."

Professor Dumbledore took a drink from the golden goblet in front of him and continued, "A house elf that is very loyal to both Mr. Potter and myself managed to remove Mr. Potter and Professor Snape to a secure and safe location where Professor Snape successfully identified and brewed the antidote for the poison that Mr. Malfoy coated the blade he stabbed Mr. Potter with. Mr. Potter is currently stable and will recover eventually but it was a heinous and vicious poison with long lingering effects and Mr. Potter's recovery will be long and rather painful. It is felt that at this time, he will have a safer and more complete recovery by remaining where he is. Hogwarts infirmary is not equipped for the type of long term therapy that Mr. Potter will need and St. Mungo's is just not secure enough considering the previous attempts upon his life. I do not know exactly where they are at this time, but we are in touch with them and I have every confidence in the skills of Professor Snape and the other individuals at their location in securing Mr. Potter's eventual recovery and safe return to Hogwarts."

He had to wait a few minutes as most of the students, especially those who knew Harry well cheered before he began to speak again, his countenance darkening as he chose his words carefully. "The disappearance of Mr. Malfoy is considerably more problematic. After the attack that most of us witnessed, Mr. Malfoy was removed to the hospital wing for the treatment of his injuries as several Auror's were summoned to investigate the incident. It is known that a knife was strapped to the handle of Mr. Malfoy's broom and that he did deliberately and with malice attack Mr. Potter. The blade was coated in a level four poison the use of which without Ministry approval carries a mandatory five year sentence in Azkaban. As Minister Fudge was questioning Mr. Malfoy about his unprovoked and vicious attack upon Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy tripped a portkey taking both himself and the Minister to an undisclosed location." He waited while the students processed that information.

"As you will no doubt discover in this morning's Daily Prophet, the former Minister was found this morning in Diagon Alley, suffering from post-Cruciatus exposure and other spell damage. He remains in St. Mungo's where he will reside for the foreseeable future. He was able to answer very limited questions and confirms that Mr. Malfoy's portkey took them directly to Voldemort's presence. Why former Minister Fudge was released or what happened to Mr. Malfoy is unknown at this time. Any further speculation would be mere guesswork at this point and I encourage you to refrain from listening or spreading speculation at this time. As to the new administration of Madame Bones and the widespread effects her sweep through both the Ministry and the Wizengamot over the weekend has had, I direct your attention to the Daily Prophet and your parents or guardians for answers. Thank you for your attention and classes will be held as usual, though I will be assuming Professor Snape's classes for today and then St. Mungo's will be supplying a potions instructor for the remainder of Professor Snape's absence. Professor Derwitt will arrive before supper this evening and I hope that you will all make her feel welcome and learn all that you can from her during Professor Snape's absence." With a final nod and a long glance at all of the students as if daring them to challenge his directives, he turned and left through the small door behind the staff table.

An almost silent student body left the Great Hall for classes that morning; each one thinking about everything the Headmaster had shared with them that morning.

* * *

Remus Lupin stirred his sugar and milk into his morning cuppa and leaned back to peruse the Daily Prophet that had just been delivered to him. Before he could blow across the cup and cool it enough to sip, the banner headline made him drop the cup; luckily it hit the table and spilled into his plate rather than down his lap.

_Minister Fudge Found, Incompetent_

_Former Minister Cornelius Fudge was found this morning outside of Ollivander's Fine Wands in a sorry state. Witnesses report he was singing nonsense and appeared to be happily making mud pies._

_He was taken to St. Mungo's for treatment where a spokes wizard had this to say, "Minister Fudge has been admitted to our long term care ward suffering from excessive exposure to the Cruciatus curse. It is not known at this time if he will recover, though it is inconceivable that he will ever recover enough to hold public office again._

_He leaned forward as the implications of that swirled through his brain but the small paragraph on the bottom below the fold made him forget his breakfast entirely and leap from the table heading for the parchment and quill on his desk, the chair he had been sitting in only moments before hitting the floor with an unnoticed but very loud bang._

_Ministry Considering Hiring Werewolf as Head of Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures_

_In a shocking discovery this morning, the Daily Prophet has discovered that the new Minister for Magic, Amelia Bones, is considering asking former Hogwarts' DADA Professor Remus J. Lupin to step up and head the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures._

_Records show that Mr. Lupin attended Hogwarts and passed both his OWL's and NEWT's with honors all while being a werewolf. He has since held a variety of jobs, most notably as DADA Professor all without difficulty._

_Knowing the hostility now prevalent between Goblins, Werewolves, Vampires, and Centaurs, to name a few, it makes sense to the Daily Prophet to place someone in this position of authority that can understand and appreciate the difficulties in both worlds. The Editor and staff of the Daily Prophet encourage Madame Bones to take this bold step in reuniting the world of magical beings._

* * *

AN: I know it's short but I was having a terrible time with this chapter and I wanted to post something so that you would know that I haven't abandoned this. I hope to have a new chapter out for Paddy's Little Pup soon as well. Thank you for not forgetting me and the support that you give me.


	12. Chapter 12: Crumbling Beliefs

Nightmares and Daydreams

By Teacherbev

AN: Chapter 11 has been edited and reposted with new information. I want to thank all of my readers who pointed out the duplication of the information about Sirius Black's innocence and the fact that he had already been publically cleared in Chapter 9. I must admit that I seldom read my own stories; I am just hypercritical of my own writing, so when I read in the outline that Chapter 11 had a discussion about the upcoming press conference I wrote it about Sirius Black when it should have been about the new Ministry personnel and Remus Lupin. It should be reread for the new information or you might not figure out what is going on. Sorry to say it won't be my only oops so thank you to my many reviewers for pointing out those glaring errors to me.

From Chapter 11: _Snape drew back his hand as if he had been scalded. "How did you get these marks, boy? Who did this to you?" He had grabbed one thin shoulder and flipped the boy roughly onto his back, his need for answers overriding his concern for the boy's comfort and delicate medical state._

_His eyebrows almost meeting in the middle, rage making his eyes bright and penetrating, Snape demanded once more, "Who did this to you?"_

_Harry opened his mouth, trying to make his unresponsive tongue make any kind of a coherent response. He tried to make himself smaller, involuntarily responding to his inbred need to present a smaller target for his Uncle and Cousin if at all possible. He recognized the incoherent rage and almost uncontrollable anger having seen it on Uncle Vernon's face too many times before in his young life to be able to differentiate between rage at him and rage for him._

"_Unghh…unghh…" Was all that he managed to force out before Snape lost all control and shouted "Legillimens!" his wand shaking slightly in his anger as it pointed directly between Potter's eyes from less than two inches away._

Chapter 12: Crumbling Beliefs

Snape pushed his way through Potter's brain, pushing aside his current memories as he dug deep for the ones from the boy's early childhood. He was determined, once and for all, to find out what the boy was hiding and if his firm belief in the boy's pampered upbringing was true. He had always seen exactly what he had expected to see when looking at the younger Potter spawn, arrogant, impertinent, foolhardy, and spoiled. But at every staff meeting when he had expressed 

his belief in the hopes that the boy's arrogance and sense of entitlement be curbed, his colleagues disagreed with his assessment, some quite vehemently at times. Could he be so wrong, could he have been superimposing his preconceived beliefs where there was no actual basis in fact? Could he have so wanted the boy to be worthy of his hatred and scorn that he had molded his perceptions to allow him to treat the boy as the boy's father had treated him?

He knew that Albus would have his knickers in a twist if he knew what he was doing, but it was better to ask forgiveness that permission, and as he would be alone with the brat for the foreseeable future, he had to know the truth so that he could act appropriately in Potter's rehabilitation. At least that's what he was explaining to himself as he finally dug deep enough to find the boy's early childhood.

"No, Unca Venon, I don' do that! Dudey bweak his twuck, I no touch!" Harry was pathetically trying to explain as his Uncle dragged him from the spotless lounge and down a long narrow hallway. The huge man had his meaty fist clenched in the boy's hair, his scalp reddening visibly with the pressure of the pulling hair. Vernon was sputtering obscenities at the boy as he stalked towards a small cupboard door, slamming the small child of about 3 or 4 years old hard against the wall.

"How many times have I told you, you little FREAK, you touch nothing in our house! Freaks like you don't deserve toys, freaks like you don't deserve food, and if I had my way, Goddamn freaks like you wouldn't even get air! I should have drowned you the day those abnormal monsters left you on our doorstep, and it's not too late to fix that, you got me, BOY!" Spittle was hitting the poor boy's face as he tried to curl smaller, but it didn't work, it never worked. With a mighty swing, a huge fist backhanded the boy, throwing him halfway down the long hallway; a burgeoning red mark marred the tiny face from temple to chin. Harry just curled up in a fetal position, silent tears streaming down the terrified face as his Uncle snatched him up by one bare and filthy foot and threw him headfirst into the cupboard. As the lock was pushed home, Vernon said with a satisfied smirk, "No food for three days, Boy!" The oversized walrus made a swiping motion with his hands, as if he was brushing off the filth from having to touch the abnormal little runt and went back into the kitchen, humming softly.

Snape pushed aside that memory with a mental shudder and dove looking for memories with his Aunt, surely his Aunt had spoiled her nephew? Ah, he found one. Harry looked a little older than the earlier memory, maybe six, or even seven. Harry could hear his Aunt knocking on his bedroom door, telling him to get up. Yes, this must be a better memory. She cared enough to make sure her nephew was up in time for Primary school. "Get up you lazy little brat! Vernon and Dudley will be wanting their breakfast."

"I'm up Aunt Petunia, I'm up." Snape watched as the boy fumbled around in a squashed cardboard box and pulled out a rag of some kind. If he had eyes in his mind, they would have gone impossibly wide as he watched Harry shrug into the huge shirt and then pulled out a pair of 

humongous torn and shabby jeans. He stuffed a rolled up pair of socks into a pair of filthy and holey trainers before sliding his feet into them and then pushed open the small cupboard door from his earlier memory. 'Surely that wasn't where they made the boy sleep, was it?' Snape mused incredulously.

Snape continued to watch as Harry tried to tie up the oversized jeans with an old piece of cord and then shuffled into the kitchen, his oversized and dilapidated trainers slapping the floor with each step, yawning and rubbing his eyes, one of which had a noticeably greenish black bruise around it. He watched dumbfounded as Harry proceeded to deftly cook a massive amount of bacon, sausage, fried tomatoes, and eggs. A whole loaf of bread was toasted and buttered and the table was set for only three people when a thundering sound of feet heralded the arrival of the other family members.

Snape felt his ire rise and an acid churning of bile in his stomach as the three Dursley's inhaled the huge breakfast that the skinny boy had made and not been allowed to even sit at the table or indeed, even taste a single crumb. As the Uncle was leaving, he turned and snarled, "You be good today and we might let you eat tonight!"

Harry was left in the kitchen with his stomach growling loudly, a wistful look over his shoulder showed his Aunt Petunia scraping the leftover bits from the dishes into the garbage before telling Harry to get busy with the dishes so he wouldn't be late walking to school. With a loud slam of the door, the three Dursley's left and Harry sighed, his shoulders slumping as he began to scrub the kitchen clean.

Snape was beginning to despair of finding a single good memory from Harry's early years when he decided to find some from his Primary school. Certainly his teachers and playmates stood up for the boy? He scanned several years, skimming rapidly from day to day, week to week and finally year to year but all he found was loneliness, mind numbing hunger, and pain. Harry spent as much time as possible in the library but he wasn't allowed to check out any books because his Aunt and Uncle had expressly forbidden it and without permission, the librarian could only let him read during recess and lunch times. Snape found countless memories of Harry being beaten by his huge cousin and his gang of ruffians, multiple instances of Uncle Vernon whipping the boy with a thin leather strap for getting better marks than his precious son, hours upon hours of back breaking chores with little or no food and not a single instance of someone showing love, pride or caring in any way.

Snape pulled himself from the boy's mind and staggered backwards until he fell down into the chair beside the boy's bed. 'How could anyone treat another human being, a helpless small child like that?' His own father had been harsh, but he had been loved by his mother and his grandparents and he had been allowed friends and possessions of his own. And the house elves were always bringing him snacks and drinks even when his father banned him from the table for some infraction. Snape dropped his head into his hands, his temples throbbing with the pain of forced Legillimency and then he looked through the cascade of greasy locks hanging in front of his eyes to see how the boy was doing.

Harry lay white faced and trembling on the bed, tracks from his hot tears clearly visible as he tried to force himself calm after the bastard had mind raped him once again. And this time the smarmy plonker didn't even have the excuse of teaching him Occlumency! He had his fists clenched in the sheet under him and he could feel the bloody wanker watching him, his beady black eyes seeming to drill through him even though he had his eyes clamped shut and couldn't actually see what the greasy git was doing now.

Snape shook his head, finally feeling ashamed and shamed at what he had done to a defenseless child, one who had apparently had a life filled with horror and pain even without him making his life at Hogwarts a living hell. 'How am I ever going to make it up to him? Lily would have skinned me alive for the way I've treated the boy all these years. And how did Albus not know what was going on in that house? Why didn't the Muggle authorities remove him…could the Ministry and Albus have been keeping away the Muggles for some reason? I wouldn't put it past that idiot Fudge but why would Dumbledore not remove him from that hell?' He shook himself again and stood up to go and check on the boy he had just assaulted, his mind churning as he vowed to himself to somehow make up to the boy for his previous treatment.

* * *

To: Amelia Bones, Minister for Magic

From: Remus J. Lupin

Subject: Daily Prophet article of this morning

Imagine my great interest and surprise this morning when I read in the Daily Prophet that the Ministry for Magic is considering hiring me for the position of Director of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

1. If this is not someone's idea of a totally tasteless and tacky joke I have several comments to make.

2. If you want me to head that Department, it will require a complete name change as I refuse to Regulate and Control any sentient being, no matter their shape or affliction. Perhaps something along the lines of Department for Inter-Species Understanding and Co-operation?

3. I have never neither worked, nor desired to work for the Ministry of Magic and in fact am unable to hold a job, marry, or have children due to the injustice of the current Ministry laws. Why should I work for a Ministry that treats me as a rabid dog, or worse?

If this is not a joke, why am I reading about it in the Daily Prophet rather than being asked directly? Are you asking me to become a member of a Ministry that is too afraid to meet with a known werewolf in person?

I await your owl with anticipation,

Remus J. Lupin

* * *

To: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore: Order of Merlin, First Class, and Grand Sorcerer; Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards; Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

From: Remus J. Lupin

Subject: Your sanity… or lack thereof

Dear Albus,

If you have read today's Daily Prophet you know what I am talking about. If you haven't, I suggest you read it forthwith. I see your manipulation skills behind this and cannot hope to wonder exactly where you left your sanity and suggest you consider getting in touch with reality a little more often.

I cannot in good conscience work for any Ministry that believes other sentient beings need or want to be 'regulated and controlled' in any way, shape, or form. You know that Fudge and his stooge Umbridge have made it impossible for anyone not totally human to hold any kind of job, marry, or have children. Why on Merlin's hairy left buttock would I want to associate with the Ministry in any fashion?

Awaiting your owl or notification of your admittance to the long term ward at St. Mungo's; whichever comes first.

Remus J. Lupin

* * *

To: Sneaky dog

From: Confused wolf

Did you send me a joke newspaper this morning? Or has the whole world gone arse over teakettle since the attack on Harry? What do you know about the Prophet this morning?

Moony

* * *

Amelia Bones was steaming as she stormed from the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic and headed for the lift to her office. The crowds around her parted like Moses meeting the red sea as soon as they noticed her red face, her barely controlled anger and the day's Daily Prophet scrunched up in one fist so tightly that the pictures on the front page not only couldn't move, they appeared to be in great pain.

She hit the button for her floor so hard, the panel cracked and splintered but she didn't notice as the lift doors snapped apart with unusual alacrity as if the lift not only didn't want to hinder her exit, but was encouraging it. She stomped through the reception area spewing orders left and right like an Army drill sergeant.

"I want Shacklebolt here ten minutes ago, I want Croaker, Diggory, and Weasley here before my tea is done brewing. Now, people!" Her staff had been frozen at the sight of the usually even tempered witch and flew to gather the requested people as quickly as possible.

It was a testament of how fast an irresistible force can move an unmovable object, but Amelia had all four men in her office in less than fifteen minutes, a record that any government bureaucracy should be proud of.

Amelia stood up and slammed the crumpled newspaper down onto her desk so hard, the blotter jumped. "Gentlemen, I want to know who leaked this to the Prophet and how a private conversation in this office was made public knowledge without us even knowing about the leak!"

Croaker, the new Head of the Unspeakables Office, was the first to answer. "I didn't know anything about this until this morning Madame Bones, but I will send for my best agent to scan for listening spells and even Muggle devices that might be in this office. Have you scanned since you moved in after Fudge?"

Bones looked over at Shacklebolt who looked chagrined. "No, it never occurred to us that someone might have bugged Fudge's office. He was such a glory hound that he notified the press every time he had a bowel movement." Croaker just rolled his eyes while the others swallowed snorts.

"I know that my son and his friends found out that Rita Skeeter had some way of finding out information that she should have had no access to at Hogwarts. Would you like me to floo him and find out what that was, Madame Bones?" Arthur asked rather hesitantly, still not entirely comfortable with his newly elevated status in the Ministry.

Kingsley looked interested as well as both Bones and Croaker. "I'd like to find out how that half faced harpy gets her information as well, even if it wasn't her this time."

Amelia nodded at Arthur and pointed a hand toward her fireplace in invitation. As Arthur stood up, still a bit uncertainly saying "Shall I then?" as he walked over towards the ornate white marble fireplace.

"Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office" he called and waited just a minute until he began speaking to Professor Dumbledore, asking him to send his youngest son and Hermione Granger through the floo to the Minister Bones' office as soon as possible. He told him the password for Ron and Hermione to be able to access it and then the five high officials waited for Ron and Hermione to get notified and travel to the Headmaster's office.

"Hey Dad, what do you…" Ron's voice trailed off as he noticed his father wasn't alone and the exalted company that was sitting in the very posh office waiting for him as he stepped from the floo behind Hermione. He gulped and hoped that he wasn't there because something bad had happened to Harry. Hermione just looked very interested and immediately went over to introduce herself to the two in the office that she didn't know.

"Hermione Granger, very nice to meet you, Madame Bones. I was ever so pleased to hear about your confirmation in the Wizengamot." She reached out a hand to Kingsley and then Mr. Diggory, both of whom she had met previously. She looked expectantly toward Croaker and raised an eyebrow in question.

"Mr. Croaker, Department Head for the Unspeakables, Miss Granger." Madame Bones said before continuing, "We understand from Mr. Weasley that you have information about how Rita Skeeter obtains confidential information. Have you read this morning's Daily Prophet?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Are you really considering hiring Professor Lupin? He would do such an excellent job, of course you would have to change some things rather drastically for him to work for you, but I'm sure it could be done." Hermione was so excited that her words were slurring together and she was bouncing on the balls of her feet, while Ron just looked pleased that it wasn't bad news about Harry and that he, personally, wasn't in trouble.

The adults all shared a bemused expression as they processed Hermione's rant before Madame Bones brought her back on topic.

"Well, yes, that very idea was discussed right here in this office, but it was never released for public disclosure and in fact we hadn't even broached the subject with Mr. Lupin, who no doubt will be rather irate to read about it in the morning paper. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he feels rather blindsided by it and an inordinate amount of pressure that shouldn't have been there to accept from some factions and to decline from other ones. I am rather interested in how this information was obtained since it has violated the sanctity of my own office and Mr. Weasley mentioned that the two of you might know how Rita Skeeter was able to obtain restricted information while banned from Hogwarts during last year's Tri-Wizard Tournament." Madame Bones looked expectantly at the duo and Ron turned to Hermione for guidance.

"I do have an understanding with Rita," Hermione spoke more hesitantly than Ron had ever heard her speak before as she tried to figure out if Skeeter had violated their agreement or not.

"I don't know if I can tell you without violating that agreement." She rubbed her hand on her chin and looked torn at what she should do.

Ron spoke up, "Hermione, I know the information and I don't have an agreement with her do I?"

Hermione beamed at Ron, "No, you don't. The agreement was between Skeeter and Harry and I, you weren't included or even there when we made it, so it doesn't cover you at all. Okay, let me leave the office so I'm not violating my agreement and then whatever you reveal to them I won't know about." She flounced out of the office, satisfaction apparent with every step she took.

The door had barely clicked shut when Ron began to speak. "We found out at the end of last year that Skeeter is an unregistered animagus, she's an ugly little water beetle with odd markings around the eyes that look like her glasses. She uses that form to sneak around and listen in on conversations."

Kingsley muttered several phrases that would have merited a harsh scolding from Molly Weasley if they were ever spoken in her presence, especially if they were uttered in front of one of her children. It looked like several others in the office agreed with his sentiments but were holding back on commenting, though Ron's face merely looked like he was trying to memorize what had been said.

"I want her brought in for questioning immediately, Shack. Even if it wasn't her article, and I'm not sure that it was or wasn't since it lacks her usual byline, we have enough for a hefty fine and a short stint in Azkaban. I want her questioned on those articles last year too; if she knowingly caused lies to be published she is guilty of libel at the least and defamation of character as well for both Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore. I'm sure she didn't do it all on her own either, she always has been a rumor monger but there was always just enough of a grain of truth to cover her own arse. Sometimes though she would print a story for the right price and the right people. We finally have a legitimate cause to question her under Veritaserum with these charges though." Amelia looked almost as gleeful as Shacklebolt did.

Croaker just looked pensive and after several quiet moments her asked, "Do you think she was a willing tool for Fudge or Voldemort, is there any evidence that Fudge was working for Voldemort or just too stupid and corrupt to investigate who was paying him? After all, both men benefited from denying the return of that psychotic mass murderer for the last four months." It was surprising that no one in the office flinched at him saying 'Voldemort' rather than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Amelia looked at Shack for his opinion, but he was looking up at the ceiling, deep in thought. "You might be right, Croaker. At least she was being paid off for that libelous and defaming campaign. She kept it alive too long and got too vicious too quickly for it to be anything but a planned hit job."

Amelia nodded her agreement with her Head of Law Enforcement and turned to Amos, "I want an arrest warrant issued for her before you leave the office. Kingsley, go to the Daily Prophet office immediately and make sure you search her office completely. Send someone to the Goblins to see if they might cough up her financials, they have been a lot more forthcoming since we negotiated the new treaty with them for running our prison."

She turned to look at Croaker and asked, "By the way, anything new on getting rid of those thrice dammed dementors yet?"

"We have a new ward that is completely encircling Azkaban Island right now that mimics a continuous Patronus Charm. It's keeping them contained for the moment, but we haven't found any documentation on exactly what the things are. We have to know if they are a natural beast, a construct from some evil Dark Wizard in the past, or a summoned demon before we know what to do with them." Croaker looked frustrated at his department's lack of progress.

"Why do you need to know what they are to destroy them?" Ron looked curious as he tipped his head slightly.

"If they are a natural beast, they will have a natural foe or weakness of some kind. It they are a construct we will need to deconstruct them and if they are a demon, we will need to banish them back to the dimension that they came from." Croaker explained patiently.

"Oh, I guess that makes sense."

"Why thank you, Mr. Weasley. I am so glad that you approve of our research."

Arthur stood up opened the door for Hermione to return before hustling the two students back to the fireplace and sent them back to Hogwarts. He turned to look at his colleagues with a sheepish pink tinge coloring his ears. "Sorry about that, Croaker."

Croaker chuckled and answered, "Not a problem, I have kids and grandkids of my own and I've never known one not to be curious as a cat."

The group shared a smile and then got to work at catching a bug.

* * *

Harry refused to open his eyes even when he felt Snape taking his pulse and rubbing something gooey on his chest. He felt his tight chest muscles ease somewhat but he wasn't going to give the bastard another chance to rip through his mind if he could help it.

"Potter, look at me, please." Snape' voice lacked its usual venom and indeed sounded almost…contrite.

"I promise that I will never again use Legillimency on you without your express permission."

Harry cracked one eye open and dared a quick glance up at the greasy git sitting beside him on the edge of his bed. When nothing happened, he tentatively opened both eyes and glared at his teacher.

"I had no right to do that to you, Mr. Potter. I was not teaching you and I had neither your permission nor warned you of my intent, and that was wrong. I apologize to you."

Harry didn't know if he was more shocked at Snape using Mr. Potter or the apology he was being given, it actually sounded sincere.

"Shut your mouth before you drool down your chin, Mr. Potter." Ah, there was his potions professor after all.

"Now, is it all right for me to apply the potion to your back? It will relax the muscles in your chest and ease the tightness you are experiencing, this making it easier to breathe."

Harry blinked once slowly, realizing that it was getting harder to breathe all the time. He felt that if he could just stop breathing for a few minutes his chest muscles would get a rest and stop hurting but he knew that probably wasn't the best idea so he just resigned himself to being flopped around like a piece of meat. He was rather surprised to be floated up and placed down onto the transfigured mattress much gentler than the last time and pleased that he didn't panic at all this time.

Snape started at his neck with a thick warmed potion, his long fingers massaging deep into the tensed muscles. Harry flinched and groaned at first until the potion and Snape's magic fingers began to loosen his stiff back and neck muscles. If Harry could purr like a cat he would have by the time Snape reached the middle of his shoulders and somewhere between his ribs and his hips he fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.

* * *

Hermione almost ran through the halls back to Gryffindor tower, her questions almost bursting out of her as soon as they stepped into their common room.

"What did you talk about?"

"Hush Hermione, we can't talk here!" Ron pushed her over into the corner and cast a silencing charm that Harry had taught the others. "I can't tell you about Skeeter, but you know all of the information about her anyway. But then Madame Bones asked Mr. Croaker about any progress 

on getting rid of the dementors and he said…" Ron clammed up when his brothers and Neville pushed their way into the center of the silencing spell.

"Fess up, lil' bro"

"Where did you go all in a hurry this morning?" George finished his brother's sentence.

After Hermione explained about their early morning summons to the new Minister for Magic's office, the three looked expectantly at Ron to fill in what had been discussed once Hermione left the office.

"Well, I told them about Skeeter being a bug, you know what you wanted me to say and then they talked about arresting her and how they could use Veritaserum to see if she was being paid by either V-vo-vol-voldemort or Fudge. And then they talked a bit about her and what they might find out. But wait then Mr. Croaker talked about Dementors; you guys have got to hear this." He waited looking expectantly at his friend and brothers, milking the moment as he enjoyed the fact that he knew something that they didn't.

Hermione leaned forward and slapped Ron on the shoulder, "Well, don't make us wait you git!"

"Yeah, Little Ronniekins,"

"Spill the beans, bro', or else…"

Ron gulped loudly and swallowed before leaning forward and whispering, "They are trying to find a way to destroy the Dementors but they haven't been able to 'cause they aren't sure exactly what they are. But they do have a new ward up around Azkaban that mimics a Patronus so they can't leave the Island."

"What do you mean they don't know what they are?" Hermione was entering full investigative mode, something all three boys were very familiar with from their multitude of escapades over their school careers.

"Well, they have three possibilities, according to Croaker…one they are some kind of naturally occurring animal, two they were constructed by some mad evil wizard a long time ago, or three, they are demons of some kind that were summoned here and never returned to their own plane of existence. Croaker says that they can't get rid of them until they know exactly what they are."

Hermione had written down everything that Ron had said on a piece of parchment and a quill that she had hurriedly pulled out of a robe pocket and then chewed on the end of her messy quill as she pondered this new information. She furrowed her brow and then asked, "Why is it important and did he say anything else?"

"I asked him that and he said that if they were animals they would have a natural foe or maybe some weakness they could use, and if they were demons they would need to be banished back to 

where they came from, but if they were constructed they would have to find out how to deconstruct them." He fumbled slightly over some of the unfamiliar words, but managed to get them out finally.

Hermione never said a word as she leaped to her feet, grabbed up her book bag and hustled out through the portrait hole.

The three boys looked at each other and smiled before saying simultaneously, "LIBRARY!" They all erupted in fits of laughter before separating to their own tasks before classes began in half an hour.

* * *

Harry had sunk boneless and mind numbed into the darkness after the stress of the forced Legillimency and then the wonderful massage that Snape…Snape? ... had given him. He didn't even try to find his memories or visions for once, but when the familiar pull began, he didn't fight it and just let himself drift towards his past.

'Drat…it's not the same afternoon.' Harry thought before looking around himself in curiosity. He seemed to be in his bedroom, lying down on his crib mattress with a semi interesting floating crib mobile of snitches and Quidditch players floating over his head. He watched it for several minutes before deciding that it was definitely boring just watching the golf ball sized snitch and the five to six inch long Quidditch players just going round and around over his head in the slight breeze coming in through his open bedroom window. He concentrated and made the strings disappear before using one hand to move around the snitch and the other to move a single player that he was pretending was the Seeker. He was concentrating so hard, his eyes squinting, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth that he didn't even notice his mother softly opening the door of his room to see if he was still asleep from his nap. She inhaled sharply and tiptoed silently down the hall to find James.

"We're going to have to do something about your son, James!" She said once she was safely ensconced in the study with the door shut firmly behind her. She slumped down into the chair across from the big old oak desk and dropped her head into one hand, her shoulders slumping in weariness.

"What's he done now? And remember, he's your son too." James put the quill he had been using into the pen stand and blotted the parchment before putting it aside and turning his full attention on his frustrated wife.

"He's upstairs playing with his Quidditch mobile."

"And that's a problem because…" James used his hands in a pulling motion trying to get more information about what had his normally easy going wife so upset.

"He has the snitch floating freely with one hand and is using his other hand to make one of the players be a Seeker."

"And that's a problem because…" he repeated the motion, looking more puzzled by the moment.

"He's not touching either one, he's just using wand less magic to move them around in the air."

"That's a problem." James finally agreed with her. "So what are we going to do about it?"

"I've come up with a spell and a potion that should bind about half of his magic until he gets old enough for us to teach him how to control it safely but I will need help with getting some of the ingredients and I want someone else to know about it in case something happens to us so that it can be removed. If it stays on to long it will make it difficult for him to learn magic and then when it finally is removed, he will have a hard time controlling it."

"Why?"

"Well it would be like beginning to do exercises with a full weight belt on, it would be very difficult to make any progress against the extra weights and then when you finally were comfortable with the weights and did normal things with them, if you took them off you would be much stronger than you thought because of all the extra effort you had to expend to learn in the first place."

"That certainly makes sense. I started weight training with very little weight and gradually worked my way up. I can't imagine starting with the weights I can now do easily."

"Yeah, and who convinced you that Muggle weight training would help in casting spells and keeping you on your feet longer in a duel?"

"Why just the smartest witch in a generation, that's who and you know it." James stood up and came around the desk to pull Lily to her feet and gave her a hug. They turned and walked out of the room and headed up the stairs so that James could see what Harry was doing.

"Why a potion and a spell, Lils?" James questioned as they climbed up the long winding staircase.

"Just the spell would bind his power completely; the potion modifies the binding so that if he ever really needs his full power, it's accessible to him for brief periods of time. And it means that if something terrible really happens to us or to him, the binding will break completely under great stress or wear off gradually and completely by the time he is sixteen."

James whispered, "Makes sense to me, dear." As the two of them peeked into Harry's open bedroom door. James couldn't help it, he gasped when he saw the Seeker swooping through the air, in hot pursuit of the rapidly flying snitch and Harry lost his concentration and turned to his 

parents in glee. "Hawwy, fwy…Hawwy go fwy!" He climbed to his feet, leaning over the crib railing with both hands in the air towards his father. "Go fwy now, Dada!"

* * *

AN: Hope you enjoy and I would like you to know that it is down to two families for Snape and Lily to belong to…and no one has guessed them yet. They are not Dumbledore, McGonagall, or Malfoy so guess again. I shall probably let you know in the next chapter that is if anyone really cares. So thanks again for reading and especially thanks for those of you who take the time to send a review.


	13. Chapter 13: Explosions

Nightmares and Daydreams

By Teacherbev

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I am not a multinational bookselling company, nor am I a multi-million dollar movie company, so I don't own anything that you recognize. I am a retired former teacher who likes to twist plots and play with characters, so enjoy.

AN: I have my first cataract surgery tomorrow and then the second one on June 22nd. I will still need glasses so I won't have them until after the second surgery in two weeks. I am not sure how much I will be able to see so I won't know if I will be able to type much so bear with me, I will do what I can. Wish me luck and pray for me, I don't particularly care who you pray to, I need all the help that I can get!

07/20/08 Surgery went well but I couldn't see at all for a while, my right eye was the first one done but my left eye crosses so I couldn't force it to stay straight enough to read very long. I finally have a new pair of glasses and can now be on the computer for longer than two hours at a time. It does feel strange to be able to see once again…and so much better than I ever have in my life.

Chapter 13: Explosions

Draco, no wait, his name was Derek Malone now, followed his mother through the huge airport, trying to keep up with the rapidly walking woman.

"Mother, slow down some…I'm still sore…" he whined petulantly when he stopped to catch his breath.

"You should have thought of that before you…" Narcissa Malfoy pinched her lips tightly shut as she refused to lose her temper in the middle of Heathrow Airport…she might no longer be a Malfoy but the ingrained teachings of both the Black and Malfoy aristocracy overruled her desire to give her son the dressing down he so richly deserved. She might have wanted to be free of the chains that Lucius Malfoy had tightly wrapped around her soul but she would have preferred that her son not be so stupid as to murder his own father with over a thousand witnesses in order to gain that freedom. She turned around and glared down her perfectly formed nose at the boy, her disapproval at his actions clear in every tight frown line and hard glare.

Draco looked at the floor, refusing to meet his mother's very angry glower. He felt like he was four years old again and had been caught writing naughty words in his father's books once again. But this time was much worse, he knew that he had royally screwed up and there was nothing that he could do right now to fix it. He gulped as he realized his mother could have just left him to the mercy of the Ministry of Magic or the Dark Lord and escaped on her own. He looked up at his mother, plastering the most pitiful expression on his face that he could manage; after all, it wasn't a look he was used to showing, but he knew his usual arrogant smirk would get him nowhere any more.

"I'm sorry Mother. I will keep up with you, now." He thought he managed contrition very well but according to his Mother's face, she wasn't buying it. He made a note to himself to work on his acting skills more once they got wherever they were going.

"Come along, Derek. Once we check in there will be time for you to rest some and even find a bite to eat before we board the plane." Narcissa squelched her annoyance at her son and tried to blend into the passing crowds better; thanking her sister Andromeda once more for her surreptitious meetings over the long years of her marriage to the arrogant prig her parents had forced her to marry. Without those clandestine meetings and her sister's patient lessons in how to get along in the Muggle world she would be at the mercy of the Minister of Magic right now and she doubted that Amelia Bones would be as easy to sway as the imminently bribable and congenitally stupid Cornelius Fudge had been. No, much better that she had been planning this escape ever since she had realized the brutal and totally amoral monster she had been married to would never let him leave her, at least not while she was still breathing or with her sanity still intact.

"Yes, Mother." Draco picked up the magically lightened rucksack once more and tossed it over one shoulder like the others in the crowd were carrying. He felt odd with the Muggle bag, but he couldn't afford to lose all of his shrunken belongings so he would have to get used to it. He took a deep breath and chugged after his mother once more, hoping they got to the security station soon…whatever that was.

* * *

Remus opened the window and let in the nondescript brown owl, absentmindedly giving the bird a treat after removing the thick roll of parchment that was tied to its leg. He sat down at his kitchen table as he unrolled the missive and used a stray fork to hold the top flat as he read it, his eyebrows going up and disappearing into his shaggy brown hair as he read.

_Dear Mr. Lupin,_

_I apologize for the story this morning in the Daily Prophet. I neither authorized nor know how the story was leaked but I assure you that an investigation into that leak is already underway. Regardless of how the story was unfortunately leaked, it remains that the basis of the story was, in fact, accurate._

_I would appreciate very much if you would meet with me and several others to discuss the newly opened position of Head of Interspecies Co-operation. I agree that sentient beings are and __should be insulted by the old name of the Department and that will be the first item of business to be discussed. I am quite pleased with the name that you suggested and will recommend that be the name chosen if that meets with your approval. The second item to be discussed will be which laws need to be stricken from the books to allow fair and equitable treatment to all beings, no matter what their lineage or species._

_If you would be amenable, I would like to meet with you in my office this afternoon at 3:00 pm. I anticipate a long meeting, so dinner will be served if necessary. Please think about what you would need to have happen before you could join the Ministry and bring your concerns and thoughts to this preliminary meeting. I look forward to meeting with you this afternoon._

_If this time is acceptable, please send your acceptance with the Ministry owl that delivered this parchment. If you cannot meet this afternoon, please let me know when a more convenient time would be and I will reschedule my time as necessary to accommodate you._

_Thank you, Mr. Lupin, for considering this opportunity to change our world for the better and I deeply apologize once more for the manner in which you were made aware of our interest in having you become the Head of Department._

_Sincerely,_

_Amelia Bones_

_Minister for Magic_

Remus scratched his head as he thought about his response. The article had been true then, and they were considering him for a Department Head in the Ministry. Could he work for the very bureaucracy that had kept him little more than a dangerous beast for most of his adult life? Could he refuse this opportunity to make life better for all werewolves…and goblins…and centaurs…and all of the others with a clear conscious? Shaking his head he quickly penned that the offered time was acceptable and then watched the owl fly out of his kitchen window before going into his bedroom to peruse his mediocre wardrobe, hoping he could find something suitable to meet the Minister for Magic in, as he absentmindedly figured out the balance in his Gringott's account and wondered if it was enough for a new business robe.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes and listened as hard as he could. He was afraid if he tried to turn his head he would fall off of the soft tower of pillows he was currently reclining on. He caught a quick movement out of the corner of his eye and recognized the blur that was Dobby. He opened his mouth but only a long, low groan escaped his lips. He was so frustrated that he clenched his fists and then he realized what he had done. His hands moved…HIS HANDS MOVED! He opened and closed his fists several times but it appeared that that was all he could do, he still couldn't lift his arms or do anything useful. And his legs were still numb and dead feeling.

"Harry Potter, sir is awake. Dobby must fetch Professor Snape, sir. Dobby is happy to see Master awake." Dobby was bouncing up and down on the bed so hard that Harry felt himself falling off of his pillows, his head leading the fall towards the floor.

Before he tumbled fully off the bed, he felt the little boney hands of Dobby carefully grabbing him and putting him back on the pillows.

"Oh, Dobby is so sorry, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby is not meaning to make him fall. Dobby must punish himself for hurting Harry Potter, sir. But Professor Snape is saying that Dobby must not punish himself…oh, what is Dobby to do?" Dobby looked distraught and his head was turning rapidly from side to side as if he was looking for an authority to tell him what to do with his conflicting orders.

Harry managed to make his tongue work enough to say, "N-n-n-ooo!" but that was the extent of his vocal abilities it seemed.

"Oh, Harry Potter, sir is speaking to Dobby. Harry Potter, sir is there being anything that Dobby can be doing for you?"

Dobby was still bouncing but at least he was now standing beside the bed and not on it so Harry wasn't in danger of tumbling off on his head anymore.

"Gah-h-h-h, nggghh…" Harry's face turned red and he fought his tongue to move the way he desperately wanted it too but to no avail. Nothing intelligible came out at all and his frustration mounted. He shut his eyes and scrunched up his face but still nothing. He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and realized that Fawkes was sitting on the top of a tall bookcase in the corner, his head turning every which way as he studied to boy on the bed. With a flash of his bright feathers, he glided down and landed on the foot of the bed. With an awkward gait that belied his grace and beauty while in flight, he tottered clumsily up the side of the bed until he was even with Harry's head and flopped down so that his body was laying against the boy's ribs, his long neck stretched across Harry's right shoulder so that his cheek was warm and comforting against Harry's own cheek.

Fawkes opened his sharp beak and crooned softly, urging Harry to calm down. And as always, the gentle Phoenix song had the desired effect and Harry felt all of the tension and frustrations leave his body, as if he was floating on the softest cloud. He let out a long sigh and closed his eyes in bliss. Fawkes continued to sing softly while several large pearlescent tears welled up in his bright black eyes and then slowly, almost too slow for them to be natural; they slid into Harry's open and slack mouth. Without realizing what he was doing, Harry let the tears dissolve slowly into his mouth and tongue without swallowing them and was gratified to feel his tongue lose its thickness and swelling more and more with each passing second. He swallowed gratefully and felt the numbness and overly taught muscles in his mouth, tongue and throat melt away until only a slight residual weakness remained.

Snape entered the room and stopped, reluctant to disturb the two on the big bed as he noted the phoenix comforting the injured boy and the traces of phoenix tears still glistening on Harry's lips and the tip of his still bloated and swollen tongue. Several more large pearl white tears slid down the crimson feathers and made their way into Harry's mouth where he finally swallowed them down. Snape let a small upturning of the corners of his mouth show his satisfaction as he literally watched the swelling and distortion of the boy's tongue visibly shrink.

Fawkes turned his long neck and glared at the man standing and watching them from the doorway, his black eyes glaring right through the black eyes of the potion's master as if daring him to say anything.

Harry was enjoying the feeling of healing and warmth that followed the tears as they slid softly down his dry mouth and sore throat. They landed in his stomach with a bath of increasingly comfortable warmth that seemed to spread from his stomach, upwards and outwards until he felt as if his whole body was glowing in the warmth of a gentle summer sun and didn't even notice that Snape had entered his room until he startled at the sudden shifting of the mattress when Snape sat down on the large bed beside him. He turned his head, relishing the freedom to do so without causing his body to catapult towards the floor and opened his mouth. "Ha-a-a lo-o-og heh?" Harry managed to squeeze out, pleased that he had managed to make even that small amount of words.

"How long have we been here, Mr. Potter?" Snape raised one black eyebrow and curled up one side of his lip in query. And Harry's awkward nod, he brushed on long finger across his lips in thought and calculated his answer, after all, the first couple of days he hadn't slept much at all and then he had been so busy between caring for the boy and perusing the excellent library that he, rather forgivably, had lost track of time himself.

"We have been here for a total of nine days, Mr. Potter. And before you strain yourself in trying to ask, the Headmaster and your little friends know approximately where we are and that we shall be remaining here together for the foreseeable future so that you may recover without fear of reprisal or interference. I know that I am not the one you would choose for company but the fact remains that since I do not know exactly where we are and I am incapable of leaving the heavy warding around this estate without the owner tying me into the wards…and no one else is capable of entering without being in your presence…we are stuck with each other. I am willing to set aside our past history in order to not kill each other…and since there is absolutely nothing that you can do at the present time to either hurt or intimidate me, I suggest that you agree to a truce so that you might recover in a more efficacious and timely manner. Agreed, Mr. Potter?"

Harry's face expressed his surprise at the totally unexpected offer from his most hated and feared teacher before he swallowed loudly and managed to gasp out an agreement. Snape then pulled three separate brightly colored vials from his robe pockets and carefully fed each one to Harry, pleased that the boy could now swallow much easier after Fawkes' help. Before the third one was completely gone, Harry was back to sleep once more. With a very pleased but somewhat evil smirk, Snape wiped off the last dribbles of potion, removed the excess pillows from behind the boy's back, and left the room to go play once more with the newly found potions grimoires in the dungeons. No, wait that was work…not play…must remember that this is work. If it wouldn't be so undignified he would be rubbing his hands together and skipping down the stairs in anticipation of the next new potion he could brew and feed to his patient.

* * *

Dumbledore was sitting at his desk wading through an ever growing pile of parchments when he heard the welcome interruption of the portrait of former Headmistress Greenbrier telling him he had several students standing in the hallway trying to guess at the current password to his office. It never ceased to amuse him when others tried to guess how he always knew who was attempting to gain access to his office. After all, everyone in Hogwarts knew that the portraits could not only talk to the living but they had the ability to move about through each other's frames at will. But so far, no one had guessed that the many portraits lining his office walls were so bored that they frequently toured throughout the castle looking for entertainment. And they loved to gossip…no one was safe from their meddling…no student and certainly no staff member had any secrets unless they utilized silencing spells or made sure that no portraits resided anywhere close to their conversations. And any portrait residing in the corridor leading to his office rushed to inform him of the identity of any visitors, in fact, the several portraits there fought each other in a race to be the first to inform the Headmaster.

But Albus thought little on this when he asked her who the students were. "That Ravenclaw in Gryffindor costume, Miss Granger, and the four Weasley children are outside your office now, Headmaster." She whispered in a conspiratorial fashion, as if there weren't dozens of other painted individuals keenly listening in.

Dumbledore floated the stack of parchments over and into a waiting cabinet as he told the miniature gargoyle perched eagerly on the small bookcase behind him to let the students in. With a slight flicker of movement, the miniature disappeared, only to reappear a second later, accompanied by the grinding sound of the guardian gargoyles moving aside and the staircase beginning to slowly spiral upward, gaining momentum as the friction of stone on stone decreased slowly.

Dumbledore waited for the first tentative knock to sound on his massive oak office door before gently calling out, "Come in, children."

Ginny, George, Fred, Ron, and Hermione all tumbled into the Headmaster's office, unconsciously looking around as they always did when entering the fascinatingly cluttered space. Dumbledore waved his wand and conjured several more chairs in front of his desk before motioning the children to sit down and tell him what they had come to see him about.

"To what do I owe the honor of your presence this afternoon, children?" He steepled his fingers and waited patiently for them to speak.

Hermione bit her lip nervously before glancing sideways at the four Weasley children, and at their encouraging nods, she took a deep breath and hurriedly began to speak, almost slurring her words together in her hurry to get them all out. "We think we should go to where Harry is staying with Professor Snape so that we can help him take care of Harry and make sure that he recovers all right. I, that is, we know that Professor Snape has stopped the poison and is taking care of his potions needs, but we feel that we can help Harry recover physically and emotionally much better and then Professor Snape won't have to take care of Harry and they won't…." she looked around at her companions before finishing in a much softer voice, "kill each other." She bowed her head, not wanting to look into the twinkling eyes of the Headmaster after her very rushed and nervous speech to him.

All five children startled when the elderly Headmaster just chuckled and his eyes twirled madly with merriment. "That might not be a bad idea a little bit later on, but for now Professor Snape will just have to muddle on by himself…" he hurriedly added, "not that I don't think you could be of immense help to Harry, but for now we don't know exactly where they are and would have no way of transporting you to them. But if a way is found I will let you know and have you at least able to visit Harry and help him to recover as much as Professor Snape can tolerate." The group exchanged pleasantries for another few minutes before the Headmaster gently dismissed the five Gryffindors back to their common room. They weren't particularly happy with the Headmaster's decision but at least he had left open the possibility of them going to Harry later on.

* * *

Draco left the stall in the men's loo at Heathrow and walked over to the sinks to wash his hands, thinking ahead to finally boarding the airplane and leaving England behind and wondering exactly what he had been thinking of to order a 'hamburger and chips'. It had been impossible to eat neatly and now he had to somehow get this goopy stain off of the front of his shirt without magic. This whole experience of Muggle life was dissatisfying and disorienting. The language was odd, the money was confusing and how did Muggles stand to be in such crowds and who in their right mind thought it was a good idea to hang around for four hours at the airport just to take an even longer ride in some huge metal contraption. He still wasn't too sure about his mother's assurances that the oversized thing could actually fly and wouldn't just kill them all when it crashed, but he would have to take her word on it because he sure wasn't going to stay behind to have the Ministry for Magic find him.

He turned from the sink only partially satisfied on the cleaning job he had managed on the front of his shirt only to find an elderly man standing right behind him, a disconcerting and malicious gleam in the cloudy dirty blue eyes as the man looked him up and down like a prized hippogriff at an auction. The man had stringy grey hair and looked even greasier than Snape on a bad hair day. He was wearing an old wrinkled trench coat with more stains than clear fabric and he smelled as if he hadn't bathed in days. Draco wrinkled up his aristocratic nose in disgust and held his breath as he put up a hand to push past the man, his arrogant snarl telling the man to remove himself at once.

But the surprisingly strong old man merely grabbed his wrist and used his own momentum to flip him around, his arm bent up painfully behind him as the old man pushed him back into the stall he had just left. The man's other hand had clamped down tightly across his mouth and was barely leaving enough room for him to breathe through his nose without suffocating, the odor of the man's unwashed hand clamped so tightly over the bottom half of his face causing Draco's nasal passages to burn in revolt. Draco's muffled cries of outrage and then horror went unheard in the busy noise of the huge airport as he was forcibly crammed into the small cubicle and the stall door was slammed shut tight behind the two.

Hot smelly breath felt like it was scalding the side of his neck as the pervert leaned down to whisper into the perfectly formed shell of Draco's pink ear. "Now, what you want to fight me for, boy. I know you're going to love this…just so perfect and pure…hmmm…I think I might keep you for a while…" as the pedophile kept talking in Draco's ear, he had pressed himself up against the boy's back to hold him with Draco's face pressed tight against the graffiti marred side of the stall. With one hand still clamped over Draco's mouth, and his body holding the lithe young body tight against the wall, his other hand was now free to roam the boy's perfect body and he reached down, sliding his hand over the firm stomach and down the boy's thigh, licking his lips in anticipation of reaching his prize.

Draco closed his eyes tightly, willing with everything he had to make this filthy Muggle pervert go away and just leave him alone to find his mother and get on the plane when a huge flash of magic seemed to burst out of his every pore, blowing the walls of the stall outward, shattering the toilet and spraying a huge fountain of water into the air. Draco felt drained of energy but he forced himself to turn around and look for his assailant. He instantly wished that he hadn't bothered as his stomach heaved in protest of the sight before him. The old man had been blown backward, forcing his head through the cubicle wall and then into the sharp corner of the countertop that held the row of sinks. Blood and brain matter dripped in a steady stream, spreading impossibly fast and wide with the gushing water from the broken toilet. Some part of Draco's mind registered that the man had on nothing but a shirt under his now open raincoat but his conscious mind was too busy trying to figure out how to get out of this mess and find his Mum to pay much attention to it.

He closed his eyes tightly and gave up a prayer to Merlin before running as fast as he could out of the ruined men's loo just seconds before the tell tale pops of multiple apparitions sounded over the fountain of rapidly spreading gory water. Draco gasped for breath, once, twice, and then took off as quickly as possible without seeming to be in a hurry, heading straight for his waiting Mum. She took one look at his ashen face and dripping clothes and surreptitiously cast a cleaning charm, a drying charm, and a cheering charm before handing their boarding passes to the waiting steward and hustling her now vacuously smiling son onto the waiting plane, hoping they could take off before anyone could find them.

* * *

"Thank you Mr. Lupin for coming in at such short notice." Amelia Bones was shaking his hand as she was directing him to an open spot at a small conference table. As he sank into the opulent leather chair, she continued. "I want to apologize once more for the leak in the Daily Prophet this morning, and I assure you that our investigation is ongoing in the matter. In fact, I am happy to report that we have found the culprit and am taking care of the matter as we meet now. This is Croaker, Head of the Unspeakables, I believe that you know both Kingsley Shacklebolt and Arthur Weasley, and this is Rufus Scrimgeour, who is taking over as Chief Auror since Kingsley is now taking my spot as Head of Magical Law Enforcement."

Remus shook hands all around and then sank into the waiting chair, forcing his nervousness down so that nothing showed on his prematurely aged face. Being in the Ministry for Magic and meeting with Ministry officials had never been a good idea for any werewolf, especially under the leadership of Cornelius Fudge and his toady, Delores Umbridge and it was very difficult to convince his own mind that he was safe there and would be leaving under his own power and not locked up in a Ministry holding cell for 'public safety' and they had euphemistically called killing any werewolf that they managed to gain custody of.

He forced his mind back on the matters at hand, thankful he had apparently missed very little as his mind briefly wandered and turned his formidable intellect on to the problems facing his brethren and the other magical inhabitants of the British Isles under the new and refreshing leadership of Amelia Bones.

* * *

The next long week passed in a blur of brewing potions, tending to the very slowly recovering Potter and endless hours of searching in the massive Potter Library for something more to help the destroyed nerves and atrophied muscles of the injured boy he was now beginning to respect. No matter how painful or tedious the exercise, Potter had done his best without complaint, sometimes until tears coursed down his pale cheeks and his arms and legs shook with exhaustion, but Potter never gave up until Snape himself was himself exhausted, or just unwilling to watch the torment the boy was going through any more without respite. Snape turned from the now sleeping boy and rubbed his sore hands together, stretching his long fingers and moving them every which way to relieve the ache left from the long and tedious hours of repeated range of motion exercises that he had performed on Potter's gravely injured body. He had been pleased at the slow progress the boy had made over the last week of their time in the Potter Manor but he knew that Harry was even more frustrated at the slow progress than he was. He had searched and searched through the extensive Potter library but he still had not found the potion he was desperately searching for. He just knew that somewhere in the old poorly written grimoires was a potion that would help Harry recover much swifter than the series of nerve regenerators and muscle builders that he was currently feeding the boy.

He shook his head at his own growing softness towards the boy, since when did he think of the brat as 'Harry'…even in his own mind? He was slipping and he knew he would have to return to seeming to hate the boy once they both returned to the school, but deep in his slowly thawing heart, he regretted the necessary spite and cruelty that being a spy for Dumbledore forced upon him.

As he left the boy in Dobby's capable hands and shut the door to go to the library once more, he sighed deeply and once again pondered about how utterly foolish and stupid he had been to listen to his fellow Slytherins instead of completely investigating exactly what taking the Dark Mark and vowing servitude to the Dark Lord meant. He who never took an unknown potion and investigated every single nuance and variation of any potion he brewed had blindly accepted the glorious tales and promises of power and riches Lucius and the others had spouted so loudly and frequently. He absentmindedly rubbed his left forearm where the hated mark tingled slightly and muttering imprecations at his own lack of foresight and intelligence, he stalked down the grand staircase to once again immerse himself in ancient texts.

* * *

Amelia waved Kingsley to a seat as she finished perusing the long parchment on her desk, muttering softly under her breath at some new injustice perpetrated on the wizarding public by her predecessor. Kingsley waited patiently, rereading his Muggle style notebook to refresh his memory on the items he was bringing to his bosses attention as she finished up.

"So, Shack, what do you have to report?" Amelia was always a no nonsense woman and hated to waste time, her own or anyone else's so she got right to the point whenever she could.

"That unexplained explosion of accidental magic that killed that Muggle bum at Heathrow last week wasn't quite as accidental as we thought."

Amelia dropped her monocle and sat back as she rubbed her tired eyes. "What have you found out?"

"The man killed had a long history of mental illness and crimes against young boys, sexual crimes in particular. Our intelligence at Scotland Yard had him a 'person of interest' in several unsolved crimes, including a couple of young boys that disappeared without a trace. At first we thought he had been unlucky enough to target an unidentified Muggle-born, perhaps one too young for Hogwarts yet. But we've finally tracked down the magical signature and it turns out to belong to our young friend Draco Malfoy." Kingsley paused to wait, mentally counting, one, two, three…

"What!" Ah, right on time. He continued his report. "Seems a boy of his general height and weight left Heathrow with a woman of Narcissa Malfoy's general build and age on a flight to Sydney, Australia not less than twenty minutes after the incident in the gent's. With glamour charms, it could be the two of them easily. Do you want to send someone to investigate or just notify the Australian Ministry and let them worry about our missing Malfoy's?"

Amelia steepled her fingers together and leaned her chin down onto the tips. She rubbed her square jaw up and down several times as her face tightened in thought. "I can't see any reason to waste resources on a chase. I imagine they will just fade into the background, after all, we only want to arrest Draco Malfoy, I strongly suspect that if any of Voldemort's followers manage to find them he wants to do a whole lot more to both of them. I don't know which hurt his organization the most, losing Lucius and his influence with Cornelius or Narcissa absconding with the contents of the Malfoy vaults." She chuckled evilly, "And I know he can't be pleased with losing all of his moles in the Ministry and the Wizengamot. If we keep cutting off the heads of his hydra, eventually the beast will be much easier to kill.

* * *

AN: Sorry, not much of a chapter but some things had to be set up for the next ones to work right. Thank you for waiting so patiently (and some not so patiently) while real life straightened itself out for me once more. Please let me know if you want Draco found or not. I appologize for any massive errors, but my vision still isn't wonerful and I really can't read what's on the screen at so all of the editing has to be done before I upload a chapter.


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